Egress
by Sorida
Summary: Animated: Bumblebee drives off after a number of unwanted and hurtful events with the other Autobots. Stranded in the middle of Colorado, he dwells on his regrets and all the "what ifs" pertaining to the last 48 hours of his life. Better summary inside.
1. Prologue

_Summary: The normal days are the ones you have to fear the most. It started off "normal" for the Autobots, until Prowl lost his temper with Bumblebee. It wouldn't have been that bad, that is, if Optimus didn't scold him hours earlier, Ratchet didn't reprimand him yesterday, and Bulkhead didn't ignore him for two days. Bumblebee's past and self-loathing causes him to run away in the dead of night, leaving the team on a desperate search to find him. Will they find him in time or will their worst fears be confirmed?_

_A/N: I've really wanted to do this plotline, despite the fact that it's extremely overused. Still, I want to make my own version of a "classic" while incorporating the "Bumblebee's Past" enigma into it. Unlike most "Prowl Loses His Temper" fics, this is not a BeexProwl romance story. I don't have a problem with the pairing; I'm just not the type to ship their romance. Anyway, the way the story is set up is new to me. Pretty much all of it is Bee's memory until the counter counts down to 00:00:00. You'll see what I mean next chapter. Well, enjoy!_

**00:12:34 AM; Colorado**

The night was quiet, calm. The breeze lazily caught the grass within its gentle grip, each blade swaying with its own rhythm. Clouds rolled through the sky, occasionally casting shadows down on the Earth below. The moon was full, providing whatever light it could to the nocturnal animals awake from the day's slumber. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as crickets chirped their song. Within the field, spots of light decorated the scenery, fireflies calling out to a mate through beautiful, eye-pleasing sights. All in all, it was the perfect summer's night.

Suddenly, a yellow blur sped down the road to the side of the field. The sound of an engine cut through the peaceful atmosphere, stirring up nearby plants into a wild frenzy of movements. It sped onwards, not caring for the beauty or stopping to take it in. This driver was in it for the destination, not the journey. The problem was that there was no destination in mind.

Bumblebee must have broken at least twenty driving laws, but in all honesty, he could care less. There was far too much on his processor for him to obey the speed limit. The yellow sub-compact veered right, turning on two wheels due to the abrupt maneuver. The field scenery gave way to a forest thick with pine trees and other conifers.

Everything had started so well, only to go downhill by early evening yesterday. Then again, maybe if he wasn't such a glitch, none of this would have happened.

The scout floored the gas, not at all paying attention to the fact that he was on an incline, ascending a mountain at dangerous speeds. He was too busy thinking to notice his position.

He had been driving for over 20 hours straight, now somewhere in Colorado. Despite being less than a day, Bumblebee couldn't help but feel that his time alone was for an eternity. He missed his team and

Sari, but it was too late to go back now. Nobody wanted him around, so nobody would miss him...right?

"Of course," Bumblebee scoffed to himself, "why would they want someone like me around? Maybe Wasp was right back in Boot Camp; nobody wants to be around me." Too busy with his self-loathing, Bumblebee never noticed the "Slow Down" sign on the mountainside he was currently driving up. He never noticed how sharp a turn he had to make.

So when that hairpin turn came up, the yellow police car had too much speed and not enough maneuverability. Tires screeched against asphalt as he tried desperately to make the turn, but to no avail.

Bumblebee crashed into the guardrail and fell over the edge. Quickly, he transformed out of his alt.-mode, trying desperately to stop his decent by stretching his limbs out to give him more surface area. It did little to help, for he was falling too fast and the height was too great. He hadn't even realized he made it that far up the mountain.

A sudden pain in his side brought him back to reality. He violently hit branch after branch, sap and needles clinging to his armor as he fell. After what felt like hours of endless torture, Bumblebee fell to the ground. Shuttering his optics, he tried to take in his damage.

His right shoulder was dislocated and his front wheels were blown out; any hope he had of transforming vanished. His left servo was twisted awkwardly, preventing him from moving it without immense pain. One optic was cracked while the other was completely shattered, leaking energon down his faceplate and onto the forest ground below. What frightened him most was his chassis.

He had landed back to the sky, leaving his chassis vulnerable to whatever he landed on below. It was only bad luck that allowed his chassis to be impaled by a particularly large, pointy rock sitting innocently within the forest. It was pure bad luck that had it re-open an old scar, the place where Sari had stabbed him.

Bumblebee could feel the energon trickle out of his exposed systems. Even without proper medical training, he knew enough to stay put. If he tried to move, the rock would either open the wound further or cut into his main energon line only inches below the entry point. If he wanted to live, he'd have to wait for help from his friends.

But how would they find him, in the middle of the Colorado Rockies, if they were all safe and sound back in Detroit and would they even care enough to come over two thousand kilometers away from home to rescue him? Did they even care enough to try?

Oil tears fell from Bumblebee's working optic as he thought about his friends. That emotional scarring had only happened yesterday, so why did it hurt so much?

"Because it's all true..." Bumblebee whispered to himself, raising his helm as best as he could to the stars above. Something in his spark knew he was going to die here, alone. With the company of the stars, Bumblebee thought of how it had all gone so wrong and his regret for not fixing any of it.

No time to go back now, there was only time for repentant and loathing. As the stars shimmered above his helm, Bumblebee was whisked back into his most recent, most agonizing memories of his team. At least under the cover of darkness, no one would come by to disturb him. So off he went, into the depths of his processor, struggling to grasp a hold of his consciousness as his recollections overcame his grief.


	2. Chapter 1

**47:59:45**

Optimus Prime walked into the rec. room, whistling a tune as he went to the energon dispenser. He couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his faceplate as he watched his team's "morning routine."

Bulkhead was talking with Bumblebee on the couch, probably discussing some human TV show or video game. Each had an energon cube in servo, casually sipping on it while the other told their tale.

Ratchet was in the corner, tinkering with his EMP generator. Ever since he got it back from Lockdown, the thing never left his sight in-base. Before Sari's upgrade, Ratchet locked the device in the med-bay, not wanting to look at it. Now, he always carried it around, not really minding the mod at all. Optimus didn't dare ask about that change in spark, the last thing he wanted was Ratchet's wrath upon him. He did have a theory that the change had something to do Sari's upgrade and Bumblebee's injury.

Prowl was watching a nature documentary on the big screen TV, engrossed in the actions of a mother lion and her cub. The occasional "Fascinating," left his mouth as he observed the savage, yet motherly, organic.

Unfortunately, Sari wouldn't be arriving until later in the day, having to attend something called "summer camp." She said she was staying there for a month, but she'd be coming home that afternoon.

Optimus shrugged and took a seat next to Ratchet. It was a somewhat quiet start to another normal day in the Autobot base.

"It's nice to relax for once, isn't it?" he asked the medic. Ratchet grunted before replying.

"Well, it certainly beats battling for our lives at the servos of the Decepticons."

"Agreed," Optimus paused to drink some of his energon, and then changed the subject, "Strange to think that we've been on Earth for nearly two years."

"This planet's grown on you Prime, hasn't it?" Ratchet asked, raising an optic ridge.

"Yes, it certainly has. And the team has too." he added quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I guess you could call us one big, dysfunctional family."

"That's one way to put it. I just call us a bunch of slag-heads that the Elite Guard put together to get us out of their helms." Optimus chuckled a bit at the comment. Ratchet's grumpiness could be comical at times.

Over on the couch, Bulkhead was describing his latest art project as Bumblebee lazily listened. Truth be told, he wasn't really interested in art the way Bulkhead was, but he cared enough to listen whenever his friend became enthusiastic about it.

"-and what do you think I should add little buddy?" Bulkhead asked, "Blue would blend well with what I have, but I want to add some excitement to it. I want it to be mellow, but stand out at the same time. What should I do?" Bumblebee mulled it over for a few seconds.

"What if you just scrapped the blue to begin with and go with a bright green? It'll blend and give it a flare."

"Hmm...That could work. Thanks little buddy." Bulkhead smiled.

"No problem," Bumblebee playfully punched the larger mech on the servo, "You know, maybe I should try being an artist."

"Bumblebee, you don't have the patience to be an artist." Both friends sat in silence before nodding their helms in agreement.

"Yeah...I'm more cut-out for racing." As he said that, Bumblebee transformed and drove circles around the couch. Bulkhead smiled in amusement as Prowl threw Bee an annoyed glare before turning back to his documentary.

Suddenly, a resounding clang rang throughout the room and Bumblebee transformed back to robot mode. A wrench clattered to the ground as the youngling pouted at the medic, rubbing his right horn. Ratchet smirked and everyone chuckled a bit. Yep, just a normal day at the Autobot base.

Suddenly, the alarm blared throughout the base, alerting the Autobots of a Decepticon attack. Every Autobot looked towards Optimus, waiting for him to give the signal.

"Autobots," he shouted, "Transform and roll out!" Five simultaneous transformation sequences sounded off. First out of the base was a fire truck, followed by an ambulance, black police motorcycle, green SWAT vehicle, and a small yellow police car.

"So, who's messing up the city this time?" Bumblebee asked, easily catching up with Optimus. At that second, an explosion ripped across the freeway they were driving on. The road began to collapse and the team separated before any of them could fall into the ravine.

Bumblebee and Optimus slammed their brakes on the far side of the raised highway. As the dust settled, relief flooded their systems. On the other side, Prowl, Ratchet, and Bulkhead had stopped just in time.

A buzzing sound reached Bumblebee's audios. The young mech transformed and shook his helm. 'No,' he thought, 'he can't be here! He transwarped somewhere and-'

"Bumblebot will pay! Waspinator make sure of that!"

"Slag!" Bee screamed, looking up to see the techno-organic flying in the sky. A large, green wasp hovered twenty feet away from Bumblebee, glaring at him through purple optics.

"Bumblebot ruin Waspinator's life! Waspinator will get revenge!" With that, Waspinator transformed and fired his purple lasers at the mech. Bee ran, frantically dodging the attacks.

"You know, I liked you better when you DIDN'T speak in the third-person!" Bumblebee shouted. "Seriously, it wasn't my fault and I'm sorry that this happened to you and that I sent you to the stockades, but there are a whole lot of bots you could get revenge on right now! I mean, Blackarachnia turned you into a techno-organic and Longarm (who's really Shockwave) set both of us up! See, I'm not the only one at fault here!"

"Bumblebot lying! Waspinator kill Bumblebot for sending Waspinator to stockades!" Streaks of yellow and purple lit up the sky. Every time Optimus tried to enter the battle, Waspinator drove him back with a barrage of lasers. Bumblebee counterattacked with his stingers and the cycle of dodging and shooting would start again.

Prowl, Bulkhead and Ratchet transformed, watching as the battle unfolded before them. Bulkhead nervously swayed in place. He knew if Bumblebee fumbled now, he'd be totally slagged. "We need to find a way to help them." Prowl stated, "I can use my jets to get over there now, but you two will need to find another way around."

"Ok, well…get on with it Prowl!" Ratchet shouted as he transformed. "C'mon Bulkhead, you're not helping by just standing there!" The large green mech transformed. With one last glance at his friend, he followed the ambulance. If Ratchet was even grumpier than usual, he knew what Bumblebee was up against.

"Slag it Wasp…or Waspinator…whatever! Don't you know when to quit?" Bumblebee sped away from a blast using his "wheels on heels" (as he so affectionately dubbed them). He circled around the techno-organic, letting out volts of electricity from his stingers. They weren't doing much in his favor.

"Bumblebot must pay!" Waspinator shouted. Having enough of the electrical attack, Waspinator flew up a few meters before pulling into a nosedive. At the last second, he evened out parallel to the ground. Bumblebee fired his stingers desperately, but all his shots missed. A sudden pain in his chassis assured his failure.

Optimus could only watch as Waspinator body-slammed into Bumblebee. Prowl landed next to him and readied a shuriken, but the Prime rose his servo.

"Don't," he ordered, "you might hit Bumblebee. Look." The red and blue mech pointed to the sky where Waspinator held Bumblebee by the neck. The youngling was dangling high above the city, at least, high enough to kill or severely damage him on impact. Despite that fact, Bumblebee thrashed in his captor's hold.

"Bumblebot ruin Waspinator's life!" the techno-organic yelled into the other mech's faceplate.

"Yeah, we already established that! Ok, I'm a horrible bot! Great, now can we move on?" Bumblebee clawed at the servo, digging his stingers into whatever armor he could. Waspinator smirked…to the best of his ability. There was no way his prey was getting away now.

All of Bumblebee's futile efforts stopped as a scream ripped through his voice modulator. A set of large turquoise claws raked down the right side of his frame. Energon leaked from the gashes, leaving Bumblebee to frantically cycle his vents. He shuttered his optics and gritted his denta. Suddenly, the pain came again, but from his right pede. What was the fragger trying to do?

"Slagging glitch! What the frag is wrong with you?" Bumblebee screamed. It was the only thing he could do to relieve the pain, and even then…

"Waspinator punish Bumblebot!" The servo around his neck tightened and the sound of rushing air filled his audio receptors. Bumblebee felt his body being flung around, occasionally crashing into an unfortunate building. It was all too familiar. Slag, this had to stop before the panic set in, before the past caught up with him again.

Those younglings back in the "care center" for abandoned sparklings and younglings…Primus, they were terrible. No, he wasn't going to think about that. All those stellar cycles, he was able to keep his past a secret. The team was NOT finding out about it. It would raise too many questions, too much sympathy that he didn't want or need. Nobody could find out.

Lost in thought, Bumblebee didn't notice their slight decent or the fact that Waspinator was hovering next to a sturdier building.

As soon as Waspinator slammed his helm into the wall, he completely lost whatever calmness he had left. Bumblebee went into full-blown panic as Waspinator dragged his talons over his chassis.

"No, no, stop it! Stop it!" he screamed, weakly clawing at the Predacon, "Not again, this is not happening again! GET AWAY FROM ME YOU ABUSIVE FRAGGER!" Bumblebee transformed a servo into a stinger and promptly shoved it in Wasptinator's right optics. Due to pain, he released the battered yellow mech, who was hurtling towards the ground.

"Slag it!" Bee shouted, "Slag, frag, shit, damnit!" His string of Cybertronian and Earth swears was fairly impressive, but the panic and desperation in his voice erased any humor from the situation. "Help, please help me!"

Ratchet immediately activated his electro-magnets. In all of the time he had known the youngling, Bumblebee had never pleaded like that. The mech sounded absolutely hopeless, as if doubting anyone would actually listen to him.

"Don't worry little buddy, I got ya!" Bulkhead reassured his best friend, catching him once Ratchet turned off the magnets. Bumblebee whimpered slightly in Bulkhead's arms, mumbling to himself.

"I'm not going back...live on the streets...so cold..." Bulkhead looked at his friend with concern in his optics. Truth be told, he knew literally nothing about Bumblebee's past. Perhaps this incident triggered something?

Meanwhile, Prowl used his jet boosters to level himself with Waspinator. With deadly accuracy, a golden shuriken struck the bug in the wing, causing him to lose some stability. Deciding to cut his losses there, he decided a retreat was his best option.

Transforming back into a giant green wasp, Waspinator shouted, "Waspinator not done! Waspinator will return! Waspinator has plans, yessss." He flew away faster than the Autobots could launch an attack. But, then again, he wasn't their first priority.

Ratchet made his way over to Bulkhead and Bumblebee, lying prone in the former's arms. The medic quickly scanned him over before transforming into his alt.-mode.

"Load him in Bulkhead," he ordered, "I want to check him over quickly at the base. Don't worry, the kid's going to be, I'm not worried about his injuries. I just want to talk to him." After carefully laying Bumblebee in the back of the ambulance, Ratchet sped off to the base.

"I hope you're alright little buddy." Bulkhead whispered before joining with Optimus and Prowl. Together, they transformed and began their journey back to base.

* * *

><p><em>He had no clue how he got back there, but they were glaring at him, blaming him for something that obviously wasn't his fault. Well, he thought it had nothing to do with him. No! Why was he thinking like that? He was nowhere near any of them!<em>

_"Slagger, you led them here!" Pain rippled through his small sparkling frame. All the bigger younglings were going to beat him again. Why did they all hate him?_

_"I didn't do anything!" he screamed, hiding under whatever he could. Where were the older mechs? They all helped him in times like these._

_"The 'Cons saw you because you're so slagging bright!" They were all after him. They were throwing things under the table. He needed to leave, go somewhere, anywhere but here._

_Run away…_

_…back to the streets…_

_"Get away from me!"_

_…cornered…_

_…left for dead…_

_…finished…_

_They didn't stop, didn't listen. They were surrounding him, suffocating him, beating him mercilessly. He had to run, get away from this Pit. Nobody would notice if he left. Nobody would care if he left. Because, the truth was, nobody cared about him._

_Nobody…_

When Bumblebee woke from stasis, he couldn't help but panic. The last thing he remembered was Waspinator clawing at him, clawing at old scars...

"No!" he shouted, sitting upright on the med-bay berth. Just as quickly, he lay back down. Why did his processor hurt so much?

"You're awake, good. You almost scared the others, 'course, I knew you'd be fine." Bumblebee's optics shifted towards the source of the voice. They finally landed on Ratchet, casually leaning against the wall to his right.

"What happened?" Bee asked, rubbing his helm in hopes that it would lessen the pain.

"Well, Waspinator beat you up pretty good. Your damage isn't severe in the slightest; the fragger probably wanted to cause you immense pain rather than off-lining you right then and there." Bumblebee nodded as he took in all the information. That would explain the all-over body ache he was feeling.

"So kid, is there something you want to get off of your processor?" Ratchet's question threw him off-guard. It took Bumblebee a few seconds to recompose himself before he could form a reply.

"No, it's not important anyway." With that, Bumblebee walked out of the med-bay, despite the medic's protests. All he wanted was to be alone.

"Hey little buddy," Bulkhead said, walking towards his best friend, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." The reassurance came out harsher than Bumblebee intended and, had it been under different circumstances, he would have apologized. But right now, he could care less. Right now, he wanted to be alone.

"Well, sorry…I guess. Do you need anything? You know, I could get you-"

"Bulkhead, I'm fine! Why don't you go bother someone else for once? You all want to know what's happening, but the truth is that there's nothing! Why can't you let that go and move on? Why don't you just leave me alone? I don't want anything to do with you!" Both of their optics widened. Bumblebee, in absolute shock at what he just said, stuttered. "No…Bulkhead, I-I didn't mean it…I've just…I'm-"

Bulkhead turned away, holding up a servo to get the yellow mech to stop. He fixed a glare on his so-called best friend, but his optics softened slightly. Yet, he still couldn't look Bee in the optics, so he decided to gaze at the ground.

"Don't even apologize, Bumblebee." Bee winced, Bulkhead never called him by his full designation unless he was absolutely serious, "You obviously meant what you said. You always get like this whenever we hear something about Wasp or Boot Camp. So, you can just work it out on your own now because this time, I don't want to save you from whatever crazy scheme you have. I'm done." Bulkhead walked away, probably back to the rec. room, leaving Bumblebee standing alone in the hall.

He finally got the silence he wanted earlier. But now, under the fall of the silence, he really needed a friend…and he just pushed away his best one.

"Why am I such a slag-head?" Bumblebee groaned.

It was official: he hated silence.

* * *

><p>Bumblebee sighed as the moon reached its peak in the night sky. Checking his internal chronometer, it was about one in the morning. He didn't care to take time zones into account; he was going to off-line anyway. Still, he did send out an S.O.S. frequency in hopes that the team would receive it. But reflecting on his luck recently, he doubted that an Autobot would find him. Anyone could receive an S.O.S., including Decepticons. If they found him first, he was completely slagged. Opting not to think about the future, Bumblebee immersed himself in past events once again.<p>

If he hadn't said that one thing to Bulkhead, then maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe, he and Bulkhead wouldn't have had the fight. Maybe Bulkhead would still be his best friend. He wanted to apologize, and he should have apologized before he left, but every single time, Bulkhead would walk away. Not wanting to think about it, Bumblebee lifted his helm to the sky.

The night carried on, the moon peaking through the gap in the foliage made by Bumblebee's fall. Energon puddles now littered the ground around him, glowing softly in the darkness. It still trickled out of his chassis, flowing down the rock like a strange waterfall. The pain hadn't lessened at all.

An owl hooted in the distance, filling the night air with its echo. It sounded melancholy to Bumblebee, as if calling out for someone, but fully knowing nobody would respond. He mused that the metaphor would have been more effective with a wolf or something.

Suddenly, the wind caught the forest, rustling the tree branches all around the clearing. Strange, it almost sounded like a helicopter or…slag.

"Waspinator finally find Bumblebot."

Double slag.


	3. Chapter 2

**35:42:01**

"Hey guys, I'm back!" Sari shouted, letting her duffle bag fall to the floor. Her bright blue eyes scanned the rec. room for a certain yellow bot. She had so many camp prank stories to tell him about. The sun was setting behind her, casting its orange-tinted rays through the dusty windows of the old plant. Ratchet sat on the couch, fixing some piece of equipment someone probably bumped into and broke. Optimus was watching a bit of TV, trying to grasp the humans' strange terminology and slang. So far, he hadn't quite understood the concept known as "Bromance." His best guess was that it had something to do with Prowl and nature.

Bulkhead was sitting by his canvas, his faceplates donning a pensive attitude. A servo grasping a paintbrush rested below his jaw piece and the other held the canvas steady, just waiting for the next brushstroke.

The teenager noticed that neither Prowl nor Bumblebee were in the room. She assumed Prowl was meditating under his tree or outside on the roof to watch the sunrise. But Bumblebee…he should have been playing video games or playing pranks on the ninja-bot. The fact that he wasn't in the rec. room at all raised an eyebrow.

"Hey guys, where's Bee?" she asked. Bulkhead's grip on his paintbrush tightened as he off-lined his optics, turning his helm away from the blank canvas. Ratchet and Optimus looked at each other before the Prime sighed and walked over to Sari.

"Come with me Sari," he said, "it's a long story." The techno-organic followed Optimus through the halls of the base, passing Prowl's room, Bee's room, and the training room in the process. They finally stopped at the end of the hallway. Optimus opened the door to reveal his office, equipped with an Autobot-sized desk with a chair behind it and two other chairs for visitors(of course, they were Autobot-sized too). Sari was a little unimpressed, expecting it to be Optimus' room or a cool new lounge room they'd never shown her. She shrugged it off. Not everything about the Autobots was "cool" anyway. Optimus gestured for her to go in and have a seat.

To her surprise, once she sat down (with the help of her jetpack), Optimus chose to sit in the seat next to her after closing the door. Well, at least Optimus knew when to be informal. Sari could picture nothing worse than an uptight, "prim and proper" mech. Granted, she probably just insulted their leader or someone else of higher authority, but at the moment, she could care less. Besides, it wasn't like she actually said anything about the subject.

"Sari," Optimus started, jerking Sari out of her thoughts. He paused, pondering where to start first. After thirty seconds, the teenager huffed with impatience.

"I just wanted to know where Bee was," she mumbled, crossing her arms, "so why does it need a long-winded explanation?"

"Well, I guess I'll start here: you are aware of what a double-agent is, right?" he asked.

"Um, duh! I watch those movies all the time. What does this have to do with Bee?" She leaned towards the Prime, raising an eyebrow. Was Bee a double-agent or something?

"Back before Bumblebee became a Space Bridge Maintenance bot, he was in Autobot Boot Camp for training, like the rest of us. During that time, he found a Decepticon double-agent posing as a new recruit. The evidence he discovered all led to a mech designated Wasp."

"So Bee's like a detective?" Sari smiled, relaxing back into the chair, "Now that's pretty cool." Optimus hated to burst Sari's bubble (as the humans put it), but it had to be done.

"Well…he kind of…framed the wrong mech." He replied hesitantly. Sari slapped her forehead.

"Come on Bee…" she groaned. Memories of the Space Barnacles popped into her head. Bumblebee's blunders were ridiculously funny in hindsight, but at the time, they were just plain irritating and idiotic. She knew Bee didn't mean it or help it. Hearing this story proved her best friend's incompetence was entirely subconscious. In all honesty, she felt absolutely terrible for him. Did the Cybertronian deity have it out for him or something?

"Right…so Wasp was sent to the stockades. Recently, Wasp escaped, came to Earth, was turned into a techno-organic by Blackarachnia, and is now hunting Bumblebee down for some sort of sick revenge. Before, he'd been transwarped someplace with Blacharachnia (every time he said her name, Sari had to contain a giggle. It was obvious he still liked her) and we weren't expecting to hear from them ever again. But Wasp-or Waspinator-came back earlier today."

"He trashed the city? I thought it was Blitzwing or Starscream." The teenager shrugged. Great, one more lunatic in Detroit: just what the city needed.

"As you can imagine," Optimus continued, "he went after Bumblebee first-"

"He hurt Bee?" Sari interrupted, "Oh, that guy is so getting it now! Wait, you still haven't answered my question."

"Sorry, I was getting to that. Ratchet came back here to fix Bumblebee. From what I could get out of Bulkhead (which wasn't much) and from what Ratchet clarified, Bumblebee and Bulkhead are in a fight. Bulkhead's been trying to paint and get his mind off of it. Last I heard was that Bumblebee's in his room. But the reason I told you all of this, rather than just telling you where Bee is, is because whenever Wasp shows up, Bumblebee (to put it lightly) doesn't take it very well." Sari nodded: kind of happy that Optimus' story was done and feeling bad for her friend. She just had one question.

"How'd you find out that Wasp wasn't the double-agent?"

"The real one told us." Optimus sighed, "He's stationed on Cybertron, a Prime, and he's head of the Autobot Intelligence. Sentinel won't listen to us whenever we try to tell him. Well, he did right before Wasp became a techno-organic, but he hasn't really acted upon it yet."

"Alright Optimus, you want me to go talk to Bee?" she offered. The Prime nodded.

"It would do him good to talk to someone. Bulkhead usually helps him through all the Wasp stuff since he was there, but now…" he trailed off, the rest being self-explanatory. Sari jumped off the chair and exited the room.

"I'll see what I can do." She called over her shoulder. Within minutes, she stood before Bumblebee's door. Although she knew where his room was, she never actually got a good look inside of it. She knocked four times without hesitation. There was shuffling on the other side of the door and soon, Bumblebee poked his head out of the doorway.

"Oh, hi Sari," he greeted with a small smile, "what are you doing here?" The teen pouted, putting her hands on her hips. Bumblebee was definitely off. For one, under normal circumstances, Bee would have tackled him in a hug screaming something about never letting her leave again. While Bulkhead was more likely to carry out that daydream, Bee would certainly act happier to see her again after a month of camp.

"I'm here to see my best friend, duh!" she exclaimed, pushing her way into Bee's room. He closed the door behind her and sat down on his berth. The room was filled with miscellaneous Earth devices and games. The walls each had a poster of a band on them. CDs were stacked in a corner by a box crammed with video games and movies. Datapads were scattered throughout the room and a broken game controller lay on the desk to her right. Looking the room's main occupant over, she could see a few bandages wrapped around his frame. She frowned, walking closer for a better look. Whatever attacked him had a sick desire to make as many marks on his chassis as possible. "What happened to you? I'm gone for a month and you already try to get yourself killed before I can see you again." Sari joked. Bumblebee gave a forced chuckle before deciding to watch the floor intently.

"It's a long story." The yellow mech sighed, focusing his gaze on the poster to his right.

"Optimus filled me in on the Wasp details," Sari curtly replied, "I'm just here to talk to you."

"What do you want to know?" Soft baby blue met fierce azure as the two friends met optic-to-eye. The sadness and confusion embedded in his optics was almost unbearable. Sari's heart broke as she finally understood her friend's pain. He was always so outgoing and rash to a fault, a dangerous one at that, and now he looked so weak and lost, a lost child. Perhaps now she could get the answers she was looking for.

"Whatever you want to tell me," she replied, placing a hand on Bumblebee's right leg, "I'll listen." Sari gave him a reassuring smile, wanting nothing more than for him to open up. "I guess we can start with Bulkhead."

"I said some stuff to him that I never meant to say. I was really stressed and I said it and now he doesn't want anything to do with me." Bumblebee revealed. Sari nodded her head in consideration as he continued, "Whatever I said, I might have said back in Boot Camp when I didn't want anything to do with him. I still feel terrible about that, I was such a jerk.

I want to apologize but…I don't feel like I can right now."

"What's bothering you, Bee?" Sari asked, "There's more, I can tell and don't you dare lie to me about anything!"

"No, no I won't, promise." He replied, rubbing the back of his helm. "Just, promise me you won't tell anyone what I told you, got it?"

"Best Friend Honor Code." She said, holding up one hand while the other was over her heart.

"Well…when Wasp attacked, it reminded me of…when I was a sparkling." Primus, this was going to be harder than he thought. Of course, he knew the past was a sore subject, but actually talking to someone about it was kind of…crazy.

"What's a sparkling? Is that like a baby or something?"

"I guess, more like a 'toddler' as you'd say. Anyway, I was abandoned a few stellar cycles after being sparked. For us, stellar cycles are nothing. In human terms, I think I was only a few months old. My creators had the courtesy (there was a bit of venom in his voice) to dump me at a patrol bot station. From there, they took me to a Sparkling Center."

"Are Sparkling Centers like orphanages on Earth?"

"Yeah, they are. As soon as I was old enough to start walking and talking, the older younglings decided to use me as their personal punching bag." Bumblebee rubbed his servos, as if warding off the cold from his frame. He felt so uncomfortable talking about this. Why couldn't he have just said no?

"They abused you?" The teenager's incredulous tone didn't make things any better for him. All he could do was nod.

"I always used to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whenever the others got in trouble, I was always the closest to one of the caretakers. Add the fact that I had these 'wings' that made me look like a Decepticon and…well, it's not hard to believe that they hated me so much. Most of their creators had been killed by 'Cons, so they took it out on me. I started staying near the caretakers because they always beat me up. The day I left was probably the happiest and the worst day of my life. As soon as I left, I went straight to Boot Camp and you know what happens from there." Bumblebee finished his story with a sad smile.

"Ok Bee, you want to be alone now?" Sari could see how distressed her friend was and she didn't want to push him any further than he was ready for. Yet, she could tell he didn't tell her everything. She got a brief summary of the most miserable time of Bumblebee's life. It was so obvious that he left out so many details, but now, all Bee needed was some time to recover.

Bumblebee nodded while off-lining his optics to try and regain a hold on his emotions. He could tell Sari wanted to hear it all, every punch, every ounce of spilled energon, and every single piece of truth that came from the insults he received. He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize Sari left, the door now swinging slightly on its hinges. Letting out a sigh, he walked over to lock it again. There was no way in the Pit he was facing anyone for the rest of the day. At least he knew Optimus wouldn't blow a gasket at his unusual anti-social behavior, seeing as he knew enough to let the youngling be when something like this occurred.

He lay back down on his berth, lost in thought, going through the day's events once again. As painful as they were, he needed to remind himself of the truth. Now was one of those rare times where Bumblebee let the barriers weaken. Every self-deprecating statement he could think of raced through his processor. He'd been way too arrogant and obnoxious to realize how strong his friendship with Bulkhead was. Because of his idiocy, he managed to completely obliterate it in a mere matter of minutes.

_It's your fault this happened! It's your fault they attacked our Youth Sector! Get away from us, nobody wants you here fragger!_

_You know why you're here? Well, I do. I heard the caretakers talking about you. They said your creators abandoned you the first chance they got. They were smart to get rid of you when they had the chance. Who would like a 'Con-sparkling like you anyway?_

_Why do they all hate me?_

"Because you're just so easy to hate…" Bumblebee whispered to himself. An hour later, the yellow mech found himself deep in recharge, plagued by memories, bound by the reality of it all. He blocked it all out as much as he could, yet even now, the message was clear:

Nobody wanted him around. He was destined to be alone.

Yet, when he woke from recharge, the façade was back. He would continue on in his obliviousness and happy-go-lucky attitude. Besides, if he didn't, he could barely call his life one worth living. It wasn't, but he didn't have to admit that. So, on he went with demons in his mind. Nobody would see them until it was too late.

Everyone has a breaking point, it's just a matter of time.

* * *

><p>The moon cast its rays upon the large techno-organic looming above Bumblebee. By now, the youngling didn't even think to check the time, nor did he want to. It was just a glaring reminder of how little he had left. While the rock hadn't penetrated a main energon line in his chassis, if he wasn't treated soon, he would off-line. Now, death didn't really seem like an option, more a requirement. He would join the Well of All Sparks soon enough. Of course, Waspinator just had to make it so much slagging worse.<p>

"Bumblebot make grave mistake," Waspinator hissed, leaning over Bumblebee's helm so his audio sensors wouldn't miss a word.

"What do you want?" Bumblebee stuttered, optics glaring daggers at the other. The techno-organic's next words would haunt him in his darkest dreams. Waspinator smirked, stepping away slightly from the injured mech.

"Waspinator wants to watch Bumblebot off-line, slowly and painfully." His voice was nothing more than a whisper carried through the breeze, yet the message was clear to Bumblebee.

The youngling's optics widened before resorting to looking down at the energon-coated rock. So far, he'd been holding onto the only thing he could: hope, the hope that his friends would find him and bring him home. Hope that he could apologize to Bulkhead and mend their broken friendship. Hope that he would be accepted and forgiven by the team.

But now, fatally damaged with the last mech that he wanted here, he felt it shatter. It was mutilated, ruined beyond repair. What good would hope do him now? What good would anything do him now? Nothing was his answer. He was helpless and dying, one of the worst combinations in the universe.

As the moon ducked behind the trees, Bumblebee accepted Primus' will. He was going to die, cold and friendless. It was inevitable. Only a complete idiot would think otherwise. He didn't have any more clever plans or quick wit to get him out of this situation. Bulkhead wasn't here to pick him back up. Ratchet wasn't here to fix his injuries. Optimus wasn't here to give him moral support. Sari wasn't here to back him up on whatever ridiculous plan he could concoct or provide comfort. Prowl wasn't here to calm him down.

He was alone and he would always be alone. It was the way his life had always been. No sense in changing it now.

With a shuttered vent through his intakes, he looked into the optics of Waspinator. His expression made the techno-organic's smirk twitch; the sheer acknowledgement and grim determination made him falter. Their optics never left each other as Bumblebee spoke, slowly and deliberately, as if to prolong the truth for as long as possible. His voice was quiet, yet carried well through the silence of the trees and wildlife around them, the forest providing natural acoustics to the dismal scene. His voice, filled with so much depression and self-loathing, echoed through the mountains in a final refrain.

"I'm going to die," Bumblebee stated with a sad smile, "and it's about time too."

Nobody ever cared about him and nobody ever would. Every friend he'd find would leave him eventually, for they always did. What was the point of life if it led to loss and suffering after every turn? Life had been cruel to him, time and time again. He wanted an escape. He rejoiced at the sight of death's doors. It was calling to him, begging him to walk through, hang up his coat, and stay for all eternity in comfort and happiness. It welcomed him to stay, providing the home he never had. For once in his life, Bumblebee truly believed he was making the right choice.

He would stop the senseless fighting for a lost cause, one lost many vorns ago. He would allow his optics to off-line, plunging him into never-ending darkness and familiarity. He would allow every drop of energon to leak out of his battered frame until his internal systems ran dry. He would finally allow himself to rest, to stop running from the past.

So when the sirens rang through the foliage, drawing closer and closer by every passing second, Bumblebee already succumbed to his lethargy. He had given up the battle for life. He chose the last egress. He chose death.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry it took so long to update. Thanks for all the reviews everyone! And no, I'm not quite done. I haven't even touched upon the Prowl aspect yet. As for the abusive younglings, in my version, there was a bit more to their motivation:_

_Bee's small and an easy target. There had to be some form of superiority in the "system" and wailing on Bee gave off some sick sort of superiority complex. In return, Bee developed a Napoleon complex later on._

_Oh yeah, sorry for the cliffhanger. :3 Happy Thanksgiving everyone!_


	4. Chapter 3

**23:12:38**

The sun rose steadily over the horizon, soaking the cityscape with its golden-orange rays. Starting with the precipice of Sumdac Tower, it gradually spread its warmth throughout New Detroit. Upon the roof of the decrepit plant, Bumblebee watched, flinching as the sunlight hit his optics. He'd been there since one in the morning, just waiting. Waiting for what specifically, he had no clue.

Perhaps it was for Sari to get to the base so they could leave and do something else. Maybe he was waiting for Bulkhead to come out of recharge, to beg for his friend's forgiveness and try to go back to the way things were supposed to be between them. Maybe he was waiting for something else to happen, something big. He had a terrible feeling that this big "thing" wouldn't be good. So lost in his thoughts, Bumblebee never heard the quiet steps behind him.

"What are you doing up so early?" The yellow mech jumped nearly two meters into the air, settling down once he realized Prowl was talking to him.

"A little warning next time ninja-bot?" he grumbled, crossing his servos across his chassis as he addressed his teammate.

"I would…if you'd stop interrupting me while I'm meditating." Prowl replied, glaring a bit at the youngling. Bumblebee returned the glare. Both, however, did not take the other seriously. From their time on Earth, Prowl became a bit of an older brother to the younger bot. Besides, Bumblebee fit the image of "annoying-as-slag" little brother. They always quarreled, sometimes becoming a bit violent, but both walked away understanding that the other didn't really mean whatever they said. The next day, they'd start the routine again, at each other's throats. It annoyed Optimus to no end, his frustration only providing further motivation for the two.

"Well, I would stop if you quit with the humming nonsense! What is this, human men's chorus?" Bumblebee blurted out, walking closer to the black and gold mech.

"It is an efficient method to help one concentrate, to focus on the processor and the processor alone." Prowl explained, a slight edge in his voice. Hearing this, Bumblebee let up on his verbal assault, optics downcast. Who was he kidding? He knew why Prowl was here, with him, on the roof.

"There's nothing you can do about this Prowl. This is between Bulkhead and me, so we're the ones who have to work it out," Bumblebee sighed, "that is, if he still wants to be friends with me. Prowl's faceplate remained neutral, letting no emotion slip through his mask. However, he was wondering how Bumblebee came across that conclusion on his own.

"What made you think that?" he asked, vocalizing his thoughts. Bumblebee smirked.

"You never come to look for me," the youngling replied, letting his optics meet the steely blue visor, "that is, unless I did something to annoy you. But I haven't done anything to you ("yet" Bee added silently to himself, musing over his next prank for the unsuspecting ninja-bot), so why else would you want to find me?"

"You're more…perceptive than I initially thought," Prowl replied with his own smirk, "I'll have to remember that for later."

"Ok, now you're kind of creeping me out," Bumblebee held his servos up, making a motion as if to back away slowly from the mech before him, "what is it you really want?"

"I want to talk." Prowl said simply, leaning on the edge of the roof, looking out to the forest miles away from the city. Bumblebee mimicked his position, helm resting on his servos as his shoulders slumped.

"I don't know what to say," Bee started, "I want to apologize, but I don't know how to get him to listen. Yesterday, he just ignored me when I tried…"

"When did you try to apologize?" Prowl inquired, the right end of his visor raised.

"Shortly after I said that stuff to him," Bumblebee absentmindedly drew swirls on the ledge he was leaning against.

"Perhaps you should try this morning, a few hours after he comes to the rec. room. Maybe, after recharging for the night, he'll have (as the humans say) 'cooled down' a bit from yesterday afternoon. There's no harm in trying." Prowl suggested, turning to face the yellow mech. Bumblebee slowly nodded, standing to his full height.

"I was going to anyway," Bumblebee smiled slightly, "but thanks for the advice ninja-bot. You're not half bad." As he walked towards the base's entrance, Prowl's voice rang through the air.

"If you, at any time, were thinking of dying the leaves on my tree pink with purple polka dots or interrupting my motorcycle stunt again, don't. I've been thinking of suitable revenge for that. It's something I like to call, 'Planet Earth.'"

"How does he do that?" Bumblebee muttered to himself, entering the base once more. Heading down the stairwell, he walked towards the med-bay. Ratchet told him to come back after his night's recharge, just to take the bandages off and check the healing process. Seeing as he woke up at an ungodly hour and the medic would have had his helm if he dared to enter before eight in the morning, he went to the roof. The lack of stars due to light pollution was slightly depressing, but the cool night air on his frame helped him unwind, clear his mind of his nightmares.

The nightmares returned with a vengeance, plaguing his processor with anguish and self-loathing. All those younglings from the center had been ridiculing him, calling him weak, calling him friendless; calling him unlovable. He denied all those claims, taking the hits as they came. He remembered the pain of one mech literally ripping the door-wings off of his body, throwing the two plates to the floor thoroughly coated in his own energon. Bulkhead soon replaced the demons of old, shouting things that the real Bulkhead would never say. But Bumblebee, despite his best efforts, found himself giving in. He believed all of what Bulkhead said, "street-bot," "ungrateful slagger," and "Decepticon youngling" among them. His spark broke when his big, green friend uttered three very simple words that could easily destroy one's life: I hate you.

He woke with a start, falling off of his berth in the process, not at all caring about the twinges of pain running through his body from the damage caused by Waspinator. His fans whirred to life, trying to cool his frame after the scare. From there, he shakily picked himself up from the ground and stood against the wall. Bumblebee winced, remembering that some of his nightmare had been a memory. Someone had ripped his door-wings off at a young age, calling him a Decepticon with the support of many others. But he would show them wrong; he'd show them all wrong. He'd make it into the Elite Guard and fight against the enemy. Too bad life hadn't exactly worked out that way.

Bumblebee continued his walk to the med-bay, stopping briefly to off-line his optics. After that realization, he'd barely noticed his trek to the roof, only responding when the sun rose and Prowl startled him. Now here he was, on his way to getting himself fixed up…again. Why did Ratchet keep fixing him? Why did anyone try to fix him? He couldn't possibly be fixed, could he? Was it possible to make him less of a glitch-head?

Ratchet huffed a "good morning" at the youngling as he entered the med-bay. Bumblebee nervously sat on the berth, thinking over his nightmares while figuring out what chance he had of escaping the med-bay before Ratchet could chuck a wrench at him for no apparent reason what-so-ever. The medic began removing the bandages as Bumblebee fidgeted. After a few seconds, he got annoyed.

"Bumblebee, stop moving, you're making this harder than it needs to be." Something about the medic's statement stung him on an emotional level. He couldn't help but think that Doc-bot was referring to something else.

"I already tried." he mumbled, slouching slightly. Such actions earned him a whack to the helm, causing him to sit stick-straight as Ratchet continued.

"You're not trying hard enough if you ask me." Ratchet grumbled. Ok, so he was talking about the fight. "If you think you can keep a friend by saying something like that to him, you've got another thing coming."

"I didn't mean it," Bumblebee replied, straining to keep his frustration at bay, "It slipped out and-"

"And you need to learn how to hold your glossa, kid." Ratchet finished, cutting off a bandage around his chassis. "Your big mouth is going to get you into trouble in the future."

"Stop blaming me for all of this!" Bumblebee shouted, finally sick of all the slag about the fight. He felt terrible about it and he didn't need anyone to make him feel worse.

"Who should I blame, Ultra Magnus?" Ratchet asked, question dripping with sarcasm, "You got yourself into this one and you have to get yourself out. You wouldn't need to get yourself out of this mess if you just knew how to shut that big mouth of yours every once in a while."

"Will you stop already?"

"I'll stop when Bulkhead stops moping around like an Earth boulder! Because of your little outburst, Bulkhead's been keeping all of us away. He doesn't want to see anyone and he even ignored Sari when she came in yesterday. Do you know how much you hurt him? Friend like him don't just appear every solar cycle, kid, they're rare. Even before now, you're treated him like slag. You're lucky he's so loyal to you. If it were anyone else, they'd leave in a nano-"

"Shut UP!" Bumblebee stood, facing the medic. Ratchet just sighed, his job was done.

"Go ahead kid, you can go." The youngling needed no more persuasion. Ratchet watched him leave, sighing once the med-bay door was slammed shut. He knew he was harsh, but the kid needed to get it through his thick-helmed processor. He needed to learn how to control himself, or face the consequences for his actions. At any rate, the medic hoped the two could make up and soon. He'd had enough of the "youngling drama," it was giving him a processor ache.

Bumblebee stomped out of the med-bay, fuming with anger. Seconds later, it dissipated, replaced by guilt and self-loathing. He knew what Ratchet said was true, he was in denial. Ratchet was right, just like all the younglings had been. Upon entering the rec. room, he saw Optimus watching the monitors and Bulkhead was in front of his canvas. Bumblebee couldn't see what he was painting, but was curious enough to go find out. Plus, he needed to apologize.

He walked over to the large green mech, coming from behind and peaking over a shoulder guard. Bumblebee raised an optic ridge. There was nothing on the canvas: no red, no blue, no green, nothing. Didn't Bulkhead start this project yesterday? Wasn't it yesterday when they were talking about blending colors?

"Hey Bulkhead," Bumblebee said. The larger of the two didn't move a joint, causing Bumblebee to sigh at his friend's lack of response. "I…I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry that I said that stuff to you. I didn't mean it at all. I got all caught up with the Waspinator slag and…I guess I hit my breaking point. I'm sorry." Bulkhead made no move, paying no heed to the youngling's apology. Instead, he dipped a brush in his sky blue paint and began painting the canvas. Bumblebee sighed, walking away from the mech. He failed.

Once Bumblebee had his back turned, Bulkhead sighed. He'd heard Bee's apology and, while he did forgive him, the statement didn't really upset him. At the time, he'd also been riled up with worry for his friend's well-being. Having that compassion shoved back into his faceplate had been too much. He lashed out at the first chance he got and he regretted it. But he wasn't ready to face Bumblebee yet, for he wasn't mad about the insult anymore. That's just what you got when you were friends with Bumblebee.

No, Bulkhead was upset about the secrets Bumblebee kept from him. He'd opened up to the small mech stellar cycles ago, but Bee had told him next to nothing. The youngling said he came from a small family and had an average life. After the battle with Waspinator, that statement had been proven false. If Bumblebee had a normal life, he wouldn't have been shouting about being hurt by others while in stasis. Something traumatized him as a sparkling and he lied to Bulkhead about it. So, the issue wasn't about the insult. It was about trust.

Trust that Bumblebee shattered.

* * *

><p>Shadows swept over the clearing as Waspinator gazed intently at the prone form below him. The clouds had come in with the wind, enshrouding the moon. Stars blinked in and out of existence, wisps of condensed water blocking the path of their light. Nature itself crawled into silence when those bright blue optics slowly faded to deep navy and then to black.<p>

Waspinator continued his inspection of youngling's spilled energon, the last of his conscience nipping at the back of his mind. That Bumbler destroyed his life with one false accusation; sent him to the stockades due to a misunderstanding and made him survive through an existence worse than eternity in the Pit. His whole life had been devoted to seeing the glitch's demise and after countless stellar cycles, he finally got his wish. The malfunction had given up moments ago as the team came closer to their location.

Whatever sanity the techno-organic had left told him to take pity on a fellow Autobot. After all, they had both been much younger at the time of "the incident" and everyone makes mistakes. But could he really do it? Could he really forgive the slag-head for all the pain and misery he had to endure? Just after seeing the normally proud mech lower the façade enough to apologize, Wasp had forgiven him. Memories flashed through his processor, dating back to their first meeting.

As soon as he saw the yellow mech, he knew the kid was an abandoned sparkling. Living in Iacon his whole life, Wasp could easily pick out the wealthier cadets from the ones who were financially stable and from those who had absolutely nothing. Of course, he himself was from a well-off family. He'd been raised with the knowledge that an Autobot of the 65356-9292-346 body-type needed connections to even have a shot at being an Elite Guard warrior or commander. Both were brutal jobs, saved for mechs and femmes who could take more damage than a mini-bot. His creators put in so much effort and credits to train him well before his time for Boot Camp, ensuring him a position, perhaps, Rodimus Prime's team.

Seeing the orphan, Wasp knew he had to steer clear of him, not wanting to waste his creators' hard work. He became good friends with Ironhide, a mech of equal social standing, and was more of an acquaintance to Longarm, a member of a slightly lower class. The large, green mech with the designation Bulkhead was of the lower middle class. Being from an energon farm, it meant that his family played a significant role in society, yet were barely touched upon by the general masses. Despite his slightly dim behavior and mannerisms, Wasp knew enough not to insult his intelligence. The ones off the energon farms turned out to be some of the brightest bots Cybertron had ever seen. With all the work put into an energon farm, each member had to know exactly which mechanisms to use and be precise in batch calculations. While Bulkhead didn't seem too smart, Wasp had a hunch that the mech could beat out even Longarm in a battle of calculations and Autobot strategies. His desire to become a Space Bridge technician was fitting, as the engineers needed to have skills easily obtained from working different types of machinery, but Wasp still needed to keep away. He settled for snickering at the mech's occupation choice with the others. After all, his position could be threatened by befriending one aiming for a social class lower than the one he was working towards.

And then there was the street-bot. The little glitch was trying his best to become an Elite Guard warrior and Wasp knew that, with his social standing, he'd never make it. Being of the high class, he couldn't allow anyone to believe he and the bot were friends. It would ruin them both. The youngling would have been falsely accused of swaying the social standing of a higher-up (a mech who could contribute more to the Autobot's government) or deceiving one with far more power than himself with Primus knows what. Wasp could be seen as a "sympathizer" of the growing number of abandoned sparklings. Such a view could turn away offers, such as Rodimus', and leave him in a position he'd rather not encounter. Yet, he did pity the youngling for not knowing any better. So, he did the only thing he could: bullied the mech into submission.

The plan appeared to be working for a certain amount of time. The glitch kept getting in trouble, causing Sentinel Minor to continue giving them extra transform-ups as punishment. If the mech continued on this path, then Wasp would save him the pain and anger of failure. Well, he would feel failure, but it wouldn't be nearly as harsh as Sentinel Minor (and maybe even Cliffjumper) crushing his dreams into oblivion. Instead, the youngling would feel the pain from him. While he was slightly guilty for the emotional trauma, Wasp continued his harshness. The youngling needed to be deterred from his impossible goal without completely falling into depression and self-loathing. He figured that if he was the one to provide such negativity, the mech would drop out before he could either embarrass himself or switch his career selection rather than being completely shattered by the news of rejection.

What Wasp wasn't counting on was the appearance of a Decepticon spy among the cadets. When he was arrested, he'd been so full of anger that he took it out on the one he was trying so hard to protect: Bumblebee. The glitch had been the one to accuse him and Wasp just snapped. He knew his methods of kindness were quite unorthodox, but a part of him couldn't help the feeling of betrayal welling up in his spark. It took over his processor, ruled his thoughts. Plans of revenge filled his very being and soon became his one link to sanity. The desire to see the slagger's energon on his servos gave him an overwhelming sense of determination and spirit. So he escaped the stockades, desperate to hunt down the one who ruined his life and labeled him as a traitor.

He came across a planet filled with small organics. Miraculously, he'd found his target and, after carefully planning out a course of action, attacked. The fear and guilt in those bright, blue optics almost got through to him, but when the glitch blamed Longarm for his imprisonment, he lost it and the anger returned. If there hadn't been a team stationed on Earth, he would've killed the mech right then and there. But, accompanied by the Elite Guard, he didn't want the Autobots to charge him with accounts of murder to add to the status of "traitor."

At the time, the whole Longarm/Shockwave story seemed to be a ruse. Only after Bumblebee apologized, the truth began to sink in through his hatred and Predacon programming. The youngling sounded sincere, prompting Wasp to reclaim his scrambled processor and explain to the orphan about his behavior and twisted reasoning. Yet, his techno-organic mind overcame the last rational, logical thoughts in his processor, leading him to nearly slag the mech again.

After the transwarp explosion, the single-minded command came back, drowning out any aspects of the once noble Wasp. Waspinator ruled his life, devising a plan to return to Earth and finish the job. Hearing him scream as he raked his claws through bright yellow armor had been a gift. His agony delighted him, continuing with the torture before dropping the mech. The ninja was the reason for his abrupt retreat and he planned to return once more.

Of course, that's when things just had to go wrong.

Bumblebee had been mad, frustrated to no end before their battle even started. The youngling charged at him, stingers firing electricity at a rapid pace. The assault finally stopped when he threatened Bulkhead, telling the Autobots that he'd off-line him right then and there. Waspinator made him give up that fight, but the ninja stopped him again from doing any more harm.

As soon as the sun rose the next morning, he decided to fly, searching for the youngling alone. After hours of hovering above the city, his purple optics caught sight of a yellow police car heading west on the highway. Waspinator followed, curious to see what the youngling would do next. The car drove through the day and well into night, travelling to a region of forests and mountains. He watched in glee as the slag-head crashed through the metal guard and plummeted to the forest floor. It did take him a while to find the yellow mech, seeing as the trees in the forest had natural gaps between their branches, some large enough for a mini-bot to fall through.

Once he saw that energon-coated rock, he'd been ecstatic. He couldn't stop himself from spouting off about the death before his very optics; that he finally got what he wanted. But, the resignation and hopelessness Bumblebee displayed brought that celebration slowing down to a crawl. That's also when sanity began to return.

When Bumblebee's optics died down and the sirens came, Waspinator finally remembered, and regretted, everything. He remembered Boot Camp, accepted the mistake Bumblebee made. He remembered briefly hearing about Shockwave from Blackarachnia, the spider-femme saying something in passing about the mech being a Decepticon spy. He felt remorse for his actions and anger towards both factions. Autobots and Decepticons hated him, the latter using him for experiments and the former stripping him of his position without a trial. Briefly, he wondered what his creators thought of him now. Had they forgotten him or were they trying to cope with the loss of losing their charge? Sadly, Wasp remembered that he had nothing to go back to, close to empathizing with Blackarachnia. But Bumblebee…he had something to live for and he just gave it up without a fight. No, he wouldn't let him do that.

The sirens grew closer and closer, his time coming to a close. He had to make his decision: would he kill the youngling before the Autobots could get to him or give him a fighting chance at survival? He off-lined his optics, wanting to stop the nonsense and empty answers, but also wanting to see the mech suffer. Wasp knew the dilemma was caused by the Predacon programming within him, so he'd have to think of something clever to get him out of the situation. Good thing he was always a smart bot.

With one last glance, Wasp managed a sad smile. He never wanted any of this to happen, but fate likes to screw everyone over. Perhaps that island he was stranded on provided answers for him. After all, he had the suspicion that those other "animals" had some Cybertronian in them. He'd find out soon enough.

Transforming into his wasp form, Waspinator flew off into the night. He had plans. He'd find his future and a place where he would "fit in."

He also just achieved in making Bumblebee suffer more, even if for just a brief amount of time. The process of healing would be agonizingly slow, boring, and painful, the guilt even more so. Oh yes, Waspinator knew of the fight going on, the tension between the Autobots. It was apparent in their last meeting. He shrugged it off. As long as Bumblebee was in pain, he was content.

Waspinator chuckled as he heard the anguished cry of another techno-organic encompass the forest in her fear. She shouted one designation:

"BUMBLEBEE!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it! Just for clarification purposes, the counter is counting down the time to Bumblebee running away from the Autobots; it does not include his 20-some-odd-hour drive to Colorado. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much as the others! And I guess I made people cry/almost cry last chapter…cool! _


	5. Chapter 4

**19:42:59**

Noontime had barely begun, yet the rec. room was wrought with tension. Neither Bulkhead nor Bumblebee moved from their positions for the last few hours, ignoring one another to focus on their self-appointed tasks. Optimus decided to steer clear for the time being, thinking that it was best for the two to have their space. However, that didn't stop his urges to intervene and help the younglings make up. He officially decided that a quiet Bumblebee was a scary Bumblebee.

Prowl also decided to avoid the conflict altogether, staying in his room to meditate. Besides, the summer sun sounded ten times better than sitting in the rec. room with two temperamental bots. After the "discussion" with Bumblebee, Ratchet found it best to remain in the med-bay and fix whatever equipment needed immediate attention. On top of that, Prime told him to finish making modifications to the plasma dynamic thruster.

The Space Bridge on Sumdac Tower had been built fairly quickly with Earth's limited resources, but having it was risky. The Decepticons could easily lay siege to the Tower and claim the Space Bridge, transwarping themselves to Cybertron for a takeover. So, Bulkhead suggested turning it into a sort of Ground Bridge, something that could transwarp them to any place on Earth. If the need should arise, Bulkhead could quickly make the adjustments to the plasma dynamic thruster to make it into a Space Bridge again. What Ratchet had to do was create a mechanism to switch the functions based on Bulkhead's blueprints. The large mech couldn't handle the tools necessary for such a delicate procedure, so Ratchet was next up on the list.

After thirty more minutes of strained silence, Optimus finally said, "Bulkhead, could you work on modifying the Ground Bridge?" Bumblebee briefly glanced at his friend, sagging slightly when he saw Bulkhead's relieved, happy expression.

"No problem Boss-bot," Bulkhead replied, transforming and driving off faster than usual. Bumblebee paused his game, trying desperately to regain control of his emotions. Despite what Optimus may have been thinking, he wasn't angry at all. In fact, he was angry at himself for giving up so easily. The wall was cracking and he knew it…he regretted it. He could almost feel his back-plates ache, memories of old scars flooding his processor.

"Bumblebee, is something wrong?" Optimus asked, sitting down next to the yellow mech. Bumblebee jumped slightly before composing himself.

"Yeah, I…you just startled me. That's all," he muttered, looking at the ground. Bots have said that optics give away everything. In Bumblebee's case, they couldn't be more right. It was hard to read his emotions through his faceplate, but one glance into his optics could tell you anything. Usually, he kept his façade up; he became too good at the happy-go-lucky persona. In moments of true clarity, even the densest of bots could determine how he felt and the turmoil behind those cheerful blue optics. Any bot that could see through the mask were disturbed and found the fact unsettling. To Bumblebee, it was all commonplace and no amount of camaraderie could ever repair the damage he'd taken as a sparkling.

Optimus gave him a concerned glance and replied, "Alright, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Is there something you'd like to share?" For a moment, Bumblebee considered the offer. Nobody but him knew what transpired in the old center he was raised in. The place was shut down a few stellar cycles after his door-wings appeared in the gutters. Bumblebee shuddered, remembering the pain and his terror at discovering the two appendages coated in bright blue energon and…not attached to him. He'd never had them repaired because he fled to the streets, surviving for all it was worth. Living didn't start until he arrived on Earth. Anytime before their crash landing wasn't considered "life," for they hadn't been one big, dysfunctional family. But now, Bumblebee doubted that they could ever go back to having that familial air and he was to blame.

"Bumblebee, did you hear me?" Optimus Prime's voice brought him back to reality; cruel, harmful reality.

"Um yeah…sorry I kinda spaced out Boss-bot," Bumblebee replied sheepishly, "But no, there's nothing I need to share." The Prime eyed him for a brief second before nodding and walking away. The youngling sighed with relief, glad that Prime finally left. Nobody could know about his life before Boot Camp because then they'd know about everything and they'd suspect him and frame him for being a Decepticon spy and he'd be exiled or something and alone for the rest of his life and Primus, he didn't want to be alone and it was bad enough with Bulkhead completely ignoring his existence but if the entire team did the same and Sari wouldn't be any better and-

_Get a hold of yourself,_ he mentally screamed, _this is NOT a good time to have a full-blown panic attack/mental breakdown!_ Besides, they could wait for another time when the monitor wasn't giving off that annoying buzzing sound. The flashing red light was annoying him too. Wait a second…oh…that was the alarm going off…

Slag it; that meant Waspinator.

Sure enough, a street camera feed popped up on the far left monitor. Waspinator was blasting random parts of downtown Detroit with no rhyme or reason. After a quick glance, Optimus shouted, "Autobots, transform and roll out!" Surprisingly, the bright yellow subcompact was the first one out of the base. Prowl noticed the speeding yellow car and pulled up next to him.

"Any particular reason as to why you're trying to get there first?" the ninja-bot asked. "Especially after Waspinator tortured you?"

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know why?" Bee asked in response.

"I'd call you crazy or suggest that you go see a psychologist to possibly diagnose you with Stockholm Syndrome."

"Fair enough…I guess I'm just frustrated. The reason Bulkhead's not talking to me has something to do with Waspinator."

"And you drew that conclusion how?" They were approaching the demolition area, broken cars beginning to litter the street they were driving on.

"I had a hunch and a strong feeling in my spark. And trust me; my hunches are hardly ever wrong." Prowl was about to protest, but Bumblebee's transformation sequence cut him off. He too transformed, both Autobots staring into the sky at the imposing green behemoth flying around the skyscrapers of Detroit.

Subconsciously, Bumblebee clenched his servos together as anger welled up in his processor. He could remember his own screams from their last encounter barely twenty-four hours ago. It was almost strange that Ratchet didn't protest when he first began the drive out of base. Then again, that was probably due to being the first to leave, using his speed to his advantage, and already planning to disregard the medic's orders if something happened. It would explain Ratchet's unending stream of Cybertronian curses behind him.

Now that he recalled yesterday's "meeting," he was beyond furious. Bee couldn't even remember activating his stingers or when he started running towards Waspinator. He was almost shocked to find himself shooting a thick, powerful stream of electricity at the techno-organic and the hit actually finding its target. He was even more surprised by the magnitude of his frustration.

"You slaggging glitch!" Bee shouted as Waspinator landed on a nearby roof. He regarded the mini-bot carefully, amusement and a hint of disbelief in his optics. "You just HAD to be the trigger!" Waspinator ducked the next electrical shot and zoomed into the air, transforming into his alt.-mode. The large green wasp flew away from the enraged youngling, only to be followed down the streets by a yellow subcompact.

"Waspinator not make Bumblebot do anything," Waspinator replied harshly, "Bumblebot bumble all by himself! Poor Bumblebot…" He rolled in the air, firing bursts of purple beams at the angered car.

"To slag with the sarcasm Waspinator, this is your fault!" Bumblebee never noticed that Waspinator was deliberately letting their chase continue, drawing closer and closer to Sumdac Tower.

"Bumblebot's fault; Waspinator tried to help. Bumblebot is a street bot and Waspinator is a noble. Bumblebot lucky Waspinator wasted time with you!"

"What do you mean 'tried to help?'" Bee was distracted and was caught off-guard when the wall of Sumdac Tower smashed into his front fender. Or rather, he flat-out crashed into the wall at full speed. Waspinator chuckled as Bumblebee transformed, leaning heavily against the tower with a servo across his chassis. Running a quick internal scan, he was relieved to find nothing important was broken or damaged in some other way. Large dents dominated his pedes and chassis, but he soon forgot about them (and Ratchet's wrath) once he heard a cry from above.

Looking up, he let out a gasp as he watched Bulkhead and Waspinator fight. Now, he finally figured out what Waspinator was trying to do…and his apparent success due to Bee's stupidity. The yellow mech would have repeatedly slammed his helm against a concrete wall if his friend wasn't being attacked at the moment. Bumblebee ran scenario after scenario quickly through his processor, but panicking too much to remain completely focused. As he aimed a stinger at the large green insect, he raised his right servo to his helm.

"Bumblebee, where are you?" Optimus asked, anger, irritation and concern blended together within the simple question.

"I'm at Sumdac Tower…Waspinator led me here and he's attacking Bulkhead. You guys have to get here and help!" Bumblebee shouted desperately through his comm.-link.

"We're on our way," Prime replied, "try to get up there and help, Prowl's almost there." Bumblebee could hear the motorcycle's siren blaring from about five blocks away. As the sound was getting louder and louder, Bee pieced everything together.

Waspinator was _trying_ to get him angry and lead him away from the group. Waspinator wanted to come to the Tower and he wanted to attack Bulkhead. Why?

"Because he wanted to hurt me in the worst way possible…" Bumblebee mumbled to himself. He mentally slapped himself for falling for the trap as Bulkhead continued defending himself and the Space/Ground Bridge. Bee mentally slapped himself again for letting his best friend fight in the first place.

"Hey Waspinator!" Bee shouted, raising his stinger. He charged the weapon to its highest power, electricity barely being contained by the appendage. Waspinator stopped his onslaught briefly, regarding the youngling with a haughty glance. That look soon turned to agony as a strong blast of electricity grazed his chassis. Bumblebee was beyond mad and way beyond furious. His optics were filled with hatred and hurt, a dangerous combination in it of itself. Paired with an array of emotional issues, it truly was a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

"You slag-head, you just HAD to go with the one thing that could hurt me, huh?" Bumblebee screamed, trying to aim his stinger at the center of Waspinator's chassis. "Stop bringing other into this! This whole mess is between you and me, nobody else! What the slag is wrong with you?" Ready for the attack, Waspinator easily dodged Bee's anger-fueled electricity barrage. With a smirk, the techno-organic gave Bulkhead one more blast before diving towards the yellow mech. Bumblebee stood his ground, bringing both stingers together in preparation for another burst of electricity. Waspinator responded by charging his forearms' laser. Both were waiting for the other to make a move, until the techno-organic decided to blast the mech out of his way. Before the shot could hit its intended target, Bumblebee was tackled by a black and gold blur. The two Autobots crashed to the ground as the purple laser scorched the asphalt where Bumblebee had previously been standing.

"Are you insane?" Prowl asked. Without waiting for a response, he quickly picked himself up off the ground, shuriken in hand. With one throw, he easily disrupted Waspinator's flight trajectory and sent him spiraling towards the ground. In a split second, Waspinator managed to right himself and pull out of his nose-dive. Clutching his injured shoulder joint, Waspinator glared once more at the Autobots before cutting his losses there. Besides, he had plenty of other opportunities to make Bumblebot's life the living Pit.

Meanwhile, Bulkhead stared over the edge of the Tower completely dumbfounded. Bumblebee was trying to defend him, but Bulkhead still had no clue what the slag was going on. But if he went by Prowl's mannerisms and Bee's dejected expression, he assumed that the event and outcome were/would not be good for his former "little buddy." Former…when did he start thinking like that?

And that's when Bulkhead realized it. If he thought that way about Bumblebee, then it meant he no longer wanted to be friends with the little guy. Primus, it meant that he didn't even want to be associated with him. Sure, Bee hurt him deeply and had done so before…but what about all the good times they had together? Did their friendship really mean nothing to him now, even after Bee defended him time and time again? Was it fair to repay his friend, his best friend, like that?

With a groan, Bulkhead collapsed into a sitting position by the now "completed" Ground Bridge (it had been downgraded after all). Once they got back to base, he would HAVE to address Bumblebee about their friendship "drama". But…he wasn't ready to make a decision yet. When it was important, Bumblebee could be the best, loyalist friend you could ever want. If you befriended Bee, you'd be together until the day you off-lined. On the other servo, Bumblebee lied frequently and no matter how small of a lie it was, it hurt to know that he couldn't trust a best friend with his secrets. Then again, Bumblebee would (and almost did) give his life to protect Bulkhead…even if the situation was something he inadvertently created in the first place. But then again…

Great, now he was driving himself around in circles. Sighing, Bulkhead trained his optics on his slightly twitching servos. What in the Pit was he going to do? How could he possibly make a decision like this? But worst of all…

"What if I choose the wrong option?" Bulkhead asked himself, "What if I break him?"

* * *

><p>"BUMBLEBEE!" Sari shouted, landing beside her best friend. Harsh moonlight illuminated her face, panic and distress etched deep into wrinkles no one that young should ever have. Behind her, a fire truck and a police motorcycle came to a screeching halt, sirens finally silenced. The forest stood still as the two vehicles initiated their transformation sequence. Optimus didn't even try to hide his gasp while Prowl looked on with cold indifference, doing his best to remain level-headed in the situation at hand. Inside, he was torn with grief, partially blaming himself for the mess. Yet, he shoved such thoughts aside for later. Right now, Bumblebee needed their help. Right now, Bumblebee was dying.<p>

The youngling's usually vibrant (and slightly irritating to the eye) yellow armor had dulled to pale, pasty hue. Both Autobots hoped that the slight color change was a trick of the optic, just the shadows coming in around them. However, once Sari hesitantly put a hand on Bumblebee's twisted and dented servo, they were proven dead wrong.

"This is bad," Sari stated, backing up slightly, "this is really, really bad." She shook her a little, trying to get the imaginary energon off of it. Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes and she fought them back in vain. Seeing her best friend like this, prone and excessively damaged, was almost too much for her. The sight must have been worse for Optimus and Prowl because to Sari, Bumblebee was a mess of wires, oil, and broken circuit boards. To the Autobots, it must have been the equivalent to a human car crash. Sari silently cursed their cultural barrier, wishing she could better understand what the others were going through.

Prowl knelt by Bumblebee's side, calculating how to remove the youngling from the energon-coated rock. So far, all he could come up with were numbers of how long the yellow mech had been in stasis for and the chances of him on-lining any time soon. Those statistics were not looking good. Guilt seized his spark as he tried to block every negative outcome of the situation from his processor. If Bumblebee, his unofficial little brother, off-lined believing their previous argument to be true, he'd never forgive himself. He regretted ever having the confrontation, especially when Bee was already stressed to his limits. The youngling had hinted at his disturbing and troubling past right before they launched into yelling at one another. If that was Bee's last memory of him, he'd regret it even past the day he off-lined.

Optimus didn't even notice when he comm.-linked Bulkhead and Ratchet, both back at the base waiting for any news on their teammate. Without hesitation, he said, "Bulkhead, we need a Ground Bridge and fast. Ratchet, you're going to want to prepare the med-bay."

"Prime, what's his status?" the medic asked, dreading the reply. Still, he needed to know how bad the kid really was.

"He's in stasis and leaking energon from his chassis. Looks like the same place Sari accidentally cut into before (he could hear Ratchet cursing across the feed). His tires are blown out, both his servos are damaged and Primus, there's a lot of energon on that rock." Optimus trailed off, realizing the extent of the yellow mech's injuries. How'd he get himself into this mess?

"What rock? And what are you still doing here Bulkhead? Get to the Tower and be ready to Bridge me as soon as I get there!" Screeching tires filled the comm. and Optimus waited until the sound receded from his audios before continuing.

"It looks like he…fell on the rock. I can't really tell what happened-"

"He fell from above," Prowl cut in, visor never leaving Bumblebee's beaten frame. "We're in a mountainous area; I wouldn't be surprised if he drove over the edge." He wanted to add "accidentally," but even he didn't fully believe that. Though suicide seemed out of Bee's repertoire, he wouldn't put it past the youngling. They all pushed his patience and barriers too far. Anything was possible.

"How much energon do you think he lost?" In the background, Optimus could hear tools being shuffled around and stored into subspace pockets. From the amount of noise, it seemed as though Ratchet were taking the entire med-bay with him. If the situation weren't so bleak, such a revelation would have been quite humorous.

"A lot," Sari stated, "he's…I don't know what you guys call it, but us humans call it a coma. He's lost about three fifths of it and it doesn't look like it staunched much." Ratchet swore loudly; people in Jasper, Nevada probably heard him. The sound of a slightly strained engine was heard shortly afterwards. Suddenly, Bulkhead's voice entered the open-comm.

"It's ready Doc-bot," he said, "how far away are you?"

"I'll be there real soon. I'm impressed kid, how many speeding laws did you break?" Prowl could tell that the medic was trying to lighten the tension.

"I just put my siren on. Besides, everyone's asleep right now, doesn't matter." Bulkhead replied, sullen mood creeping into his voice.

"Alright Prime, I'll be there in about five Earth minutes," Ratchet confirmed, "Sari, continue monitoring his condition 'cause it could and might get worse within that amount of time. Comm. me if anything happens, even if it's just a minor fluctuation."

Even though the medic couldn't see her, Sari nodded and placed a hand on Bee's shoulder joint. Silence descended upon the forest as well as the shadows. The clouds were thick, effectively blocking the moon's stolen sunrays. After a couple minutes of terse quietness, Sari let out a gasp.

"Optimus, get Ratchet on the comm. right now," she said quickly, panicking, "his spark-pulse just got slower. Bumblebee…he's fading."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm so sorry, life caught up with me…as well as school. I blame midyear exams...from last month and writer's block and my friends for making me watch Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Don't worry; I'm still really obsessed with Transformers since I can't really talk to anyone about it where I live. Still…I'm sorry! I didn't mean to take this long!_


	6. Chapter 5

**12:24:48**

Bulkhead let out a sigh as he stared at his blank canvas. Despite it being early evening, the sun didn't show any signs of setting yet. It was strange at first, getting used to such a weird time schedule that changed so drastically at such miniscule adjustments of the planet. Earth's tilted axis made the seasons turn, altered the amount of time the sun spent in the sky. It was mind-boggling to him.

He finally gave up on trying to paint something, optics focusing on the closed med-bay door. When they got back from their encounter with Waspinator, Ratchet forced Bumblebee in for repairs. Ever since then, they'd just been cooped up in there. Bulkhead heard a few shouts from Bumblebee, but nothing else that revealed the subcompact's condition.

Casting a glance at Optimus, Bulkhead shrank back from the Prime's furious gaze. The anger wasn't directed at him, but at Bumblebee's insubordination. He wasn't completely sure why Boss-bot was so frustrated, but he had a bad feeling that they'd all find out soon enough.

At least Prowl acted somewhat normal, going off to meditate in the sanctuary of his room. It was still a mystery as to how the ninja-bot could focus on that during times of high stress or during Bumblebee's endless antics.

Finally, Ratchet exited the med-bay. He appeared grumpier than usual, an after-effect of being in the same room with a certain youngling for far too long. Bulkhead almost pitied his former best friend, and then surprised himself with automatically adding "former" to the title.

"He's all yours Prime," the medic huffed. Optimus nodded, entering the med-bay with his servos clenched. The most Bulkhead could do was hope Boss-bot didn't do anything stupid. The last time he was all worked up like that, Bumblebee ran away and nearly got off-lined by Starscream. On top of it, Bee later told him how much it hurt to be on the receiving end of Prime's frustrations. He wouldn't say more than that and promptly resumed his happy-go-lucky attitude. But…Bulkhead was positive that the whole thing still bothered Bumblebee…somehow…

As soon as Optimus closed the door, Bumblebee knew he was in deep slag. Barely contained fury was clear within the Prime's optics, making him shy away from the powerful glower. After staring at one another for a few seconds, Optimus sat in a chair across from the berth Bumblebee acquired.

"I'm disappointed Bumblebee," he began, voice low and a bit menacing. Despite knowing that the Prime would never lash out at him, Bumblebee couldn't help but flinch. The tone, the posture…it was too familiar. It was too reminiscent of the past.

"Listen Boss-bot, I'm sorry." Bee said quietly, "I didn't mean to cause this much trouble. I…I wasn't thinking and-"

"No Bumblebee, you weren't thinking," Optimus cut in. "And your insubordination could have ended your life as well as Bulkhead's. You need to understand that your actions have consequences."

"I know," the youngling conceded, "but I just saw Wasp and something snapped. I felt like I had to do something and…you ever get that feeling?"

"You're missing the point. I know you're sorry, but you haven't learned anything from our time on Earth. Bumblebee, I'm very frustrated with your repeated acts of rebellion. I realize that you're still a youngling, but that's no excuse for your recent exploits. There's a reason the others listen to me and respect my decisions. We don't want to take unnecessary risks when the Decepticons are out there and ready to destroy us. We need to be at the top of our game to keep them at bay."

"Boss-bot, I get that!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "I'm not a little sparkling, I understand that and I promise not to do this again, but-"

"You've done this before Bumblebee!" Optimus declared, anger finally boiling over the edge. "In fact, your track record shows you doing this again and again! You've got to learn from your mistakes!"

"I'm trying! I'm still learning!"

"Well, I'm not seeing much progress." He said it with more venom than he intended.

"Optimus, this doesn't come easy to me. You don't understand me!"

"Enlighten me." Silence greeted the Prime's audios. Bumblebee shifted uncomfortably under the skeptical gaze, his internal debate reaching its peak. There was no way he could tell anyone…not like this. The secret of his past was one of the very few things in his life he had control over. He didn't want to give it all up to the blinded-by-rage Optimus. Slowly, he shook his helm.

"I-I can't…" he stammered.

"Fine, I just want you to think about what you've done. Also, I'm taking you off-duty until Waspinator is taken care of."

"What?" Bee gawked. "But that's not fair! Prime, he's out to destroy my spark!"

"All the more reason that you should stay at base," Prime reasoned. "This is not open for discussion." Softening his expression, he said, "I only want what's best for you." With that, he left the med-bay.

Groaning, Bumblebee let himself fall onto the berth, helm in his servos. "This is slagging amazing…" he whispered sarcastically. Still, Optimus' rage kind of…scared him. Suppressing a shiver, he rolled onto his chassis, staring at the opposite wall. Everything was happening too fast for his processor to handle. First Waspinator, then Bulkhead, then Ratchet, now Optimus…

"Next thing I know, Sari's going to yell at me for something stupid…" he scoffed. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, he was expecting such a thing to happen. Besides, degradation was such an expected thing. Why did he ever think that he could and had escaped it?

The answer remained unknown as Bumblebee drifted into an unwanted recharge cycle.

* * *

><p>The shadows of the forest advanced on the clearing, threatening to encompass the clearing. The breeze rustled the leaves and filled the area with their ominous sounds. The moon, enshrouded in clouds, continued its futile effort to light the earth below it.<p>

Through the foliage, Sari Sumdac was just about ready to break down. She could feel the pain of Bumblebee's injuries, his life slipping through her fingertips, and she was helpless to stop it. A green portal sprang to life behind her, leaving a concerned medic in its wake. Ratchet rush over to Sari's side, gently pushing her out of his way to begin his assessment.

Bumblebee's spark-pulse registered on Ratchet's windshield, a weak slow beat. Without hesitation, Ratchet shocked the youngling, trying his best to stabilize the youngling. It was like Sari's upgrade all over again. He was struggling to keep Bumblebee away from the Well.

Prowl knew the odds were not in their favor. But…Bumblebee couldn't off-line like this…believing falsehoods and lies. Looking back on their argument, the mech revealed a lot about his inner demons and past. He remarked that nobody stayed with him for extended periods of time, that nobody wanted to care for him. In his rage, he hadn't fully understood the complexity of Bee's statements…but what could they mean? What had Bumblebee possibly been through that was worse than being responsible for allowing the kidnap and slaughter of hundreds of protoforms?

"Prowl," Ratchet said, startling the ninja out of his thoughts. "I need you to tap into Bumblebee's processor. While I get the kid off of this slagging rock, he's going to lose some more energon and the movement will trigger his pain sensors. He's already deep within his processor; we don't need him to withdraw further into it. You need to keep his mind occupied, make sure his processor doesn't stop. I can't guarantee anything about the kid's mind, but you have to do this." Prowl nodded, transforming a servo into his uplink. He bent over Bumblebee's frame, waiting for the youngling's servo port to open. A panel slid up, revealing said port and, without hesitation, Prowl plugged into it.

Sari watched as her friend's frame began to relax. "Sari, you keep a servo on Bumblebee. If he starts going off-line, you tell us. Then, disconnect Prowl from Bumblebee's processor. We don't need two casualties." She noted the somber tone of the medic. With a nod, she took her position by the yellow mech. The contact made her depressed, feeling her best friend become weaker and weaker. He couldn't die…but reality was glaring her in the face.

"No, he'll be fine," Sari whispered to herself. But as the seconds ticked by, doubt was beginning to surface.

"_Where am I?" Prowl asked aloud. He was definitely on Cybertron, but…where? It didn't look like Kaon or Tyger Pax. But…it looked to decrepit to be Iacon. Maybe it was Iacon, the buildings looked similar. It couldn't be Iacon…then again; he'd never been to the poorer sections of the city._

_A whimper caught his attention. Prowl's helm shot towards the noise and walked down a nearby alley. The side street was dark and strewn with garbage and (what appeared to be) energon stains. The cry came again and Prowl quickened his pace. The glowing blue splotches became more consistent, all leading to an upturned box. Said box was shivering slightly. There had to be something under it._

_In one fluid motion, Prowl yanked the box off of the ground and gasped. Realizing his intimidating position, he quickly dropped the box. Kneeling towards the familiar figure, he whispered._

"_Bumblebee?"_

"Optimus, stand there," Ratchet pointed to the side closest to the chassis wound. "Once I begin lifting him, you carefully place the blanket in the gash. It will staunch the energon flow until I can make the repairs. On my count," he prepared his electromagnets. "One…two…three!" The pink hue surrounded Bumblebee's frame as Ratchet slowly raised his servos. Optimus quickly followed Ratchet's orders, knowing that it was best for the job to be done fast and efficiently. They couldn't waste any more time.

_Unfocused optics gazed up at the newcomer. The sparkling shuddered; trying to back away from the unfamiliar mech. Prowl saw the fear and pain in those young optics and decided to sit cross-legged before the sparkling. It whimpered again, burying its helm in its servos and letting out a pained gasp when it tried to curl up._

"_Please, don't hurt me…" a small voice said._

"_I won't, I promise," Prowl coaxed, offering the sparkling a smile. "What is your designation?"_

"_But they hurt me! I screamed and yelled and told them to go away and I asked nicely and they still hurt me!" Static laced the voice, showing signs of stress and abuse._

"_Calm down; it's ok. They're not here anymore. Are you Bumblebee?" The sparkling nodded._

"_How did you know?" Bee asked. "Nobody else remembers. They don't care, they want me gone. I'm gone, aren't I?"_

"_Who are they? What did they do to you?" Prowl asked, over protectiveness gripping his spark._

"_Tell me I'm gone! Please!" he cried, clutching his battered yellow helm. The ninja-bot finally got a good look at sparkling Bumblebee. His entire frame was covered in dents, scratches, and paint was missing from various places. Come to think of it, the frame seemed different…_

_Bumblebee's anguished screams cut off the rest of Prowl's musings. He could only watch as Bee writhed in pain, energon leaking onto the ground. "I'm gone! I'm gone! Please stop!" he shrieked, voice modulator giving out and emitting bursts of static._

"_Bumblebee, everything will be ok." He tried in vain to soothe the sparkling. His words fell on deaf audios. Glancing at the ground, Prowl noticed something near his pede. Actually, it was more like two things by his pede. They were small bits of metal, the same sallow color as Bumblebee's entire frame. Scanning the sparkling, Prowl quickly knew where the energon was coming from and he felt sick._

"_Oh Primus…" he muttered. Who would do that to a sparkling?_

"Ratchet, he's going critical!" Sari shouted, fear prominent in her bright blue eyes. In a rare moment of frustration, Optimus cursed.

"We've almost got him," Ratchet said, eyeing the rock that impaled the youngling.

"It's your call Ratchet. We trust you." Optimus reassured, despite the mounting odds.

"We're going for it…" was the medic's split-second decision. After a curt nod from Sari, he braced himself for the task ahead.

_Bumblebee's cries continued, echoing throughout the alleyway. "Please, tell them to stop! Tell them to be quiet!"_

"_Who are you talking about?" Prowl asked, noticing the shadows creeping towards them. He tried getting closer to Bumblebee, but the darkness surrounded the sparkling. It began to form shapes of different Cybertronians consisting mostly of sparklings._

"_You led them to us!" one shouted. "The Decepticons saw your wings and attacked us! It's your fault!" The yellow mech shrieked in pain as two sparkling grabbed him by his servos, yanking them in opposite directions. The one who spoke began punching the defenseless frame. Between blows, he said, "Now you know why you were dumped in an orphanage. Nobody wanted you! Why would they? You're tiny, weak, and a half-breed!"_

"_I'm not! Liar!" Bee shouted back, earning him a disorienting blow to the helm. His optics off-lined momentarily as he desperately tried to regain his bearings. Prowl tried to interfere, but found himself being pushed away from the scene. All he could do was watch as Bumblebee tortured himself with the past. If this is what the youngling believed to be true…_

"_How would you know? Nobody wants you! You are stupid and…and…" the sparkling had trouble coming up with another insult, but was soon aided by an older youngling._

"_Why did you ever think you'd make it to the Elite Guard?" Wasp asked. Bee looked up with wide optics, shaking from fear and abuse. "This is why I ignored you, street-bot. You never had it in you and who would want to be friends with you? You're an annoying slagger and everyone knows it." A large crack appeared on Bee's chassis, leaking energon onto the filthy ground. Prowl gasped as another familiar figure appeared._

"_It was a mistake being your friend," Bulkhead stated, kneeling down to the vulnerable sparkling. "I'm glad I ended our so-called friendship."_

"_You don't try to fix your mistakes; you let others do it for you. What's the point of you?" Ratchet asked._

"_I can't believe I let you stay on the team," Optimus commented. "You never listen to me or anyone else and you take stupid risks that endanger everyone else. I just wanted you safe, but apparently that's too hard for you. Why can't you do anything right?"_

"_You're worthless." Prowl watched in horror as the words left his mental doppelganger's mouth. Glancing at Bumblebee, he noticed the small yellow frame covered in lacerations and dents. The paint was constantly being scraped off by an unseen force and metal armor was being warped beyond recognition. The two sparklings let go of Bee's servos, letting the frame drop into a growing energon puddle._

"_I can die." Bee suggested. Bright blue optics dimmed to a deep azure. "I can do that right."_

"_NO!" Prowl shouted. He reached towards Bumblebee._

"Ratchet, we're losing him!" Sari cried. The tip of the rock was visible now, but Bumblebee was slipping away. She could feel his psyche recessing deeper into his processor. In desperation, she tried in vain to hold onto him, keep his mind active. It wasn't working.

"C'mon Prowl," Ratchet whispered. "Bring the kid back to us. We've all got some unfinished business with him."

_Bumblebee lifted his helm and looked straight into Prowl's optics. Cocking it to the side, he asked, "Why?"_

"_You…Bumblebee, we need you," Prowl choked out. "Please, we're so sorry for everything we said to you in the past few days. We didn't understand your experiences, the pain you've carried for so long. Now that we know, it makes sense and we want to help you move past it."_

"_Nobody wants me…" Bee whispered, letting his helm fall again. His lower body was disintegrating into dust. He was running out of time._

"_No, it's not true! Optimus, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Sari…they all care for you and would never want to see you hurt like this. They're trying to save you right now. Please, believe me."_

"_What about you?"_

"_Bumblebee…you're my little brother. You're family to me." Prowl explained, reaching out to grab Bee's servo. Cradling it, he continued. "I don't know what I would do without your boundless energy or spirit. It's true that we fight a lot, but brothers always fight. In the end, we don't mean it because…because we care about each other. I care about you. So please, focus and believe in what I tell you. You can't give up. What these…figments are telling you isn't true. You're friendly, compassionate, and strong. Please Bee, we need you."_

"_You…you really mean it?" Bee asked excitedly, optics bright with happiness. His body was solidifying again and he pushed himself into a kneeling position in front of Prowl. Without hesitation, the ninja-bot embraced the sparkling._

"_Yes, with my entire spark."_

"Ratchet, I've got him!" Optimus shouted happily. He held Bumblebee close to his chassis, relief flooding through him as Bee's spark pulsed steadily against his frame. Ratchet visibly relaxed before snapping back into medic-mode.

"He's not safe yet," he said. "We need to get him back to base quickly. Bulkhead can only bridge us back to Sumdac Tower and there's no good way to transport Bumblebee from there. We will need to bridge him to base, but that might sap all the power to the Ground Bridge for the next couple of hours."

"You and Bumblebee should go first," Sari commented. "Have Bulkhead bridge you from there. If there's still some juice left, we can drive from the Tower. If not, we'll start driving once you guys get back to the plant." Optimus nodded.

"We'll be fine Ratchet," he said. "Just make sure Bumblebee's alright."

"Ok Prime," Ratchet conceded. "Let's get Prowl out of the kid's processor." Sari activated her jetpack and turned on Prowl's comm.-link.

"_Prowl, he's ok right now." Sari's voice echoed through the mindscape. "We're going to disconnect you."_

"_Give me a second," Prowl replied. He looked down at the sparkling in his lap and smiled. "I have to go now."_

"_But…you just got here…" Bumblebee stuttered. "And…and what if the scary mechs come back? I don't want to be alone again! Please stay!"_

"_Everything will be ok," Prowl comforted. "Just rest now. If they come back, remember me. This place isn't real and you will wake up soon. When you do, your family is waiting for you." Bumblebee nodded. He yawned and curled into a small ball._

"_Promise you'll be there when I wake up?"_

"_I promise."_

_Prowl disappeared. Bumblebee smiled to himself as his optics off-lined. However, his recharge was far from peaceful. The voices were still there, waiting for him to break._

"_We're still here..."_

"_You should be dead…"_

"_Nobody wants you…"_

"_So die."_

_His defiance wouldn't hold out forever._

"_Remember me…little brother."_

_But he wasn't ready to give up yet._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Holy Primus, thanks for all the reviews you guys! You rock! :D_

_**This is important:**__ I messed up the timing and I have to fix some stuff. The times at the top of the chapters in bold are correct, it's just Bee's time of departure/arrival that got screwed up. So you don't have to go back and read the little changes, I'll tell you them here._

_Bumblebee's drive lasted about 22 hours, not over 24 as I stupidly put in the prologue. I did take time zones into account; Bumblebee didn't realize that his clock switched automatically. I'm assuming Bee's futuristic vehicle mode can change time zones. Bumblebee left around 6 or 7 in the morning, not by sunset. Oops…I knew it was stupid of me to over think stuff. I'll be editing that over the course of the weekend. As I said: fairly minor stuff (seeing as the story is already following that time frame), pain in the aft to go find and fix. -.-;_

_Oh yeah, this story is reaching its end. I'm going to guestimate about...2 chapters and an epilogue left. O.o_


	7. Chapter 6

**05:17:08**

From his perch above the city, Bumblebee lazily eyed Earth vehicles making their way around the city. Streaks of yellow and red light danced along the interstate as the moon cast its silvery glow across the metal buildings. Its reflection glinted off of various buildings' windows, creating a hypnotic combination of organic compounds and artificial structures.

It was near midnight now, which explained the lack of human activity within the city. However, highways were highways and humans enjoyed travel. He wondered what driving at night would be like. Would it help him clear his processor? Would he find it relaxing or would it increase his anxiety tenfold? There was something dangerous and comforting about the darkness. Anything could sneak up on him and he was far more vulnerable to attacks. On the other servo, he had more cover from the shadows. It would be easier to hide and people wouldn't recognize him at first glance. If he was going fast enough, humans would only get a glimpse of his silhouette. Even so, he still wasn't sure if he was comfortable with night travel. What if he didn't see something important while he was cruising? What if a Decepticon found him and he had to turn off his headlights to avoid further detection? Last time he tried that, it ended badly for him, Sari, and an innocent tree.

Shaking his helm, Bumblebee let out a sigh. The roof was becoming his little sanctuary as of late. For some reason, nobody really bothered to go up there and nobody bothered to check on him either. The latter upset him more than the former. He wanted space right now, distancing himself calmed him down. However, none of his teammates had come to the roof in search of him. He even missed his last energon ration for the day. Usually, Ratchet would be waving that Wrench of Kill Everything around and threatening to release its wrath upon his helm. Today, he received no threats from the temperamental medic. Optimus didn't try to comm.-link him. Bulkhead didn't try to talk to him. Sari didn't drop by the base. She was still probably with her father anyway.

"It must be nice to have a family," Bumblebee mumbled to the stars, "Sari's technically adopted, but the professor loves her like she's his biological daughter. I'm happy that she understands how lucky she really is. It could have turned out much worse..." Flashes of different youngling's came to mind. "Much, much worse..." The memories were welling up again, waiting for the wall to freak. "She could have wound up like..." He was remembering the pain. He tried to convince himself that his back-plating wasn't aching. "Like..." Why was he so different? "Like..."

"Like what?"

Bumblebee jumped at the voice and emitted a small shriek of surprise. Whirling around, his optics focused on the mech beside the rooftop entrance. He gazed into Prowl's stoic visor, trying his best to think of a proper response.

"...Nothing that you need to know about ninja-bot." Bumblebee crossed his servos over his chassis, mentally increasing the obnoxiousness in his outward appearance. He didn't want to talk to anyone about the past. It was the past! It didn't matter now, right? It was his business and no one else's! Why couldn't anyone get that through their thick processors? He tried his best to suppress his mounting frustrations, knowing that he shouldn't take it out on Prowl. Besides, the ninja-not was actually trying to help him alleviate the situation.

"Nothing as in the same 'nothing' that has driven you insane for the past few days? Hasn't that nothing forced you out here and away from the rest of us?" Prowl asked. It came out harsher than he intended, for Bumblebee flinched and began backing away from him. He obviously feared another tirade, so Prowl softened his voice. "We're worried about you. We know that Waspinator has been causing you a lot of stress and-"

"Yeah, you all seem so worried about me!" Bumblebee huffed. All of his anxiety and mental isolation burst out of his carefully contained mind. He couldn't do a thing to stop himself and he knew he was going to regret it later. But in the moment, he didn't give a flying frag. The emotions and memories he kept bottled up were released in a relentless tirade, all directed at the last bot he wanted to anger: Prowl. "Especially Bulkhead," Bumblebee shouted, "he's so worried that he's ignoring me. I've been trying to apologize and all he does is turn away and he pretends I don't exist, just like them! Nobody cares about what happens to me!"

Prowl regarded him with an icy glare before replying, "Bumblebee, stop being so foolish. You know that's not true. We do care about you."

"You guys sure have a funny way of showing it!" Bumblebee bit back. Now, he wasn't even trying to suppress his pain and disbelief. Hiding it wouldn't solve anything. Then again, neither would this outburst.

"Now you are acting like a selfish sparkling," Prowl remarked, "You've taken so many things for granted. You don't realize how lucky you are to be with us. So many other mechs would love to be in your place with such a carefree lifestyle and a supportive team. I always thought you understood that, but I could be wrong."

"Prowl, I do understand that and more than you know! I love Earth, but you guys have been terrible to me for the last few days. True, I brought some of this on myself, but you've all been piling one problem on me after the other, not to mention that Waspinator is out there and ready to extinguish my spark at a moment's notice!"

"However, you felt safe enough to spend the night out here?" Damn Prowl and his ninja-mind-tricks; he could always see through a façade. Only Bumblebee knew that he was deducing the wrong back-story and underlying motives.

"I wanted to clear my processor without leaving the base," Bee reasoned with a shoulder shrug.

"You put yourself in danger and blame us for the consequences," Prowl countered.

"Has it ever occurred to you that you can be wrong?" There was malice in the question as well as annoyance. "I'm not blaming anyone; I'm just a bit fragged off! I know I've made mistakes and I know that I'm far from perfect. How about you Prowl?"

"Of course I'm not perfect and I learned that a long time ago." The ninja-bot's seemingly endless patience was reaching its end. "I've seen and done things that I am not proud of."

"Oh really? I find it hard to believe that the strong, silent, mysterious and nature-loving ninja has done anything horrendous over his life-stream. Enlighten me," Bumblebee finished, tapping his pede impatiently.

"No, your cold spark wouldn't understand," Prowl hissed, turning his back on the cocky youngling. "And to think I almost expected you to. I thought you would be mature enough, but I have been proven wrong once again."

"Oh yeah? You'd be surprised at how much slag I've been through. I've got the scars and trauma to prove it." Frag, he didn't mean for that to come out. Hopefully, Prowl would think he was bluffing or something. Slag it, he really had to watch what came out of his mouth.

"If you must know," Prowl continued in a strained tone, "I was responsible for a lot of lost lives." He had to keep it vague. There was no way in the Pit that Bumblebee (of all mechs) was getting the full story. "Sparks that should have been sparks..."

"So...a bunch of little sparklings got destroyed?" Bee's nonchalant tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Something like that." The truth was still difficult to face and made the anger exponentially grow inside of his processor. However, Bumblebee's snarky chuckle pushed him over the edge.

"Good, don't give them the chance to grow up on the streets!" Bee exclaimed, "Don't make them go through the Pit just to have them find out that staying dead was probably the better option! I call that a mercy kill! You've saved them the pain of living in a world that would have no mercy on them!"

"How could you be so uncaring about this?" Prowl shouted. The outburst shocked Bumblebee into submission, allowing the younger mech to re-think his last response. Prowl continued on his advantage. "You're talking about life as though it is nothing! Life is a gift to be treasured and experienced to the fullest and here you are...spitting on it! I can't believe you Bumblebee!"

"If you've seen what I've seen, you'd understand!" Bee countered.

"If you've experienced what I have, maybe you wouldn't be such a sparkless fragger!" Prowl bit back. Bumblebee shrank back at the insult, surprised that the usually calm and collected ninja-bot used the Earth shorthand for the Cybertronian swear. It cut through his careless stupor, grounding him back to reality. He was now listening and believing everything Prowl said to him. The walls were down and he didn't have the strength to build them back up into his usual mask of childishness. Prowl caught him at the one, and worst, time he was completely vulnerable. "You know what Bumblebee? Go ahead and pull another stupid stunt! See if I care what happens; and to think that I was trying to help you!" The last sentence was a bit of an added thought. It did not escape Bumblebee's detection.

"Fine! I'll just go and get myself off-lined!" Bumblebee retorted. It didn't have nearly as much venom as he thought it would. Then again, hearing that from Prowl really hurt him way more than he was letting on. He just needed to be alone and think things over.

"Fine! I'll see your burial casket on Cybertron!" In a huff, Prowl had turned his back on Bumblebee and began walking towards the exit. He gave the door a fierce tug and angrily shouted, "Good night, Bumblebee!" After passing through the doorway, Prowl slammed it behind him and trekked down the stairs. In his rush, he didn't hear Bumblebee's quiet reply.

If he had stayed a few seconds longer, he would have noticed Bumblebee's slouched position over the rail. If he had looked back, he would have noticed the youngling's silent apology. If he had seen the apology, both mechs would have engaged in an emotionally positive conversation. If both mechs weren't so stubborn, they could have helped one another heal their wounds of the past. However, the conversation did not commence as Prowl initially intended and neither backed down when it was necessary. The result was two very hurt bots, unresolved dilemmas, and an unforeseen consequence.

It served as Bumblebee's determination to follow through with his plan. Now that Prowl rejected him, he had no more allies. The Earth base was no longer a sanctuary. He was no longer wanted. He was no longer a part of the Autobots' dysfunctional family. He wasn't good enough for the kind was they had given him. He didn't deserve to be with them. He couldn't stay. He had only one option:

He was going to run away.

* * *

><p>Three prominent figures disrupted the natural flow of the forest. Large pines towered high above even the tallest silhouette, their size and stillness contrasting with the smaller one. The most petite of the three was seated on a rock, facing away from the middle of their encampment. A dull azure glow was given off by a particularly bulky, pointed stone. It appeared as though all three were avoiding direct visual contact with it. They all knew why the rock was glowing, what substance was producing the light, and who it belonged to. None of these factors helped ease their remorse.<p>

Hunched over in her sitting position, Sari Sumdac could barely stay awake. Her eyes were constantly drooping, clouding her vision and making her thoughts hazy. When she slumped too far over, she would just wake herself up, resume an upright position, and then the cycle would continue once again. The teenager kept berating herself over this; her body was tired yet her mind was working frantically. She was remembering everything that happened within the last day or so of her life. That morning (or, more precisely, yesterday morning), an explosion in her father's lab woke her up at the crack of dawn. If she hadn't actually bothered to wake up, she wouldn't have noticed the large techno-organic wasp zoom by her window. Her curiosity wouldn't have forced her out of bed and she would have never seen the familiar yellow sub-compact it was following. She realized that if that one minor (and not-that-lethal) component hadn't exploded, her best friend would be dead. If one circumstance had not occurred, Bumblebee would definitely be off-line right now. It scared her to think like that, but she knew it was absolutely true.

Whatever deity the Autobots prayed to, she was thanking him/her/it profusely.

In attempt to break her dozing cycle, Sari looked to the right. Prowl was pacing the length of the clearing, letting nothing distract him from his train of thought. It had only been ten minutes since Ratchet departed, but they received no comm.-link from the medic or Bulkhead yet. Granted, Ratchet was probably busy repairing Bumblebee's extensive damage, but they were worrying their afts off. The ninja-bot couldn't keep his processor off his last encounter with Bee. That decrepit section of Iacon, the abusive younglings, the mental representations of Optimus, Ratchet, Bulkhead, and himself…

Was that how Bumblebee viewed the world? Is that how Bumblebee perceived his surroundings? Did Bee really think that little of himself? Did he believe that team thought of him like that?

Did they actually treat him like that?

It scared Prowl how he couldn't come up with a solid answer.

The other mech with him was thinking of a similar version of the question. Did he really treat Bumblebee so poorly? His intentions were good, he was trying to keep the youngling safe, but did he go too far?

All the times where he used Bumblebee as a diversion or deliberately placed him in harm's way for the good of the team popped into his processor. It seemed like the logical option available to him. The best way to keep Bee safe was to endanger him for a few seconds and then let him sit on the sidelines for the rest of the battle. If this was true, why did he, Optimus, have to see so much of Bumblebee's energon? Why couldn't he keep his youngest comrade safe?

The questions and doubts ate away at his self-esteem. The knowledge that one of the mechs under his charge was dying was almost too much for him to handle. However, for the sake of Bumblebee and the team, he would own up to it and accept the responsibility head-on. After all, he was one of the factors leading to Bumblebee's flight. Perhaps if he had been less harsh, Bee wouldn't be in this situation. Optimus sighed, placing his helm in his servo. Past events were past events and there was nothing he could do to change them. Now, all he could hope for was Bumblebee's survival. Once that was confirmed, he could focus on apologizing and, hopefully, forgiveness.

So lost in thought, it came as a surprise when Optimus' comm.-link went off. Everyone gave a startled jump once the familiar gruff voice of the medic came through.

"Prime, I'm back at the base. The kid's spark is still hanging on, but it's been getting weaker," Ratchet reported. Despite the circumstances, his tone of voice remained rough and authoritative. A sense of impatience trickled over the open link, providing a bit of comfort to the teammates still stranded in Colorado. All the stellar cycles of being a field medic paid off. However, the words detracted from the potential normality.

"Ratchet," Optimus started, but soon fell silent. He couldn't find the words for his next question.

"I'm in the med-bay now. I can stabilize him," Ratchet responded, knowing what the unspoken query implied. "I have a lot of work to do and I can't guarantee anything."

"It's ok Ratchet, just do your best." Optimus went for encouragement, but fell short. It sounded more like a plea for help. He was saved from any more painful communication as Ratchet cut off their conversation with an affirmative grumble.

"Hey Prowl, are you there?" came a timid voice from the ninja-bot's comm.-link.

"Bulkhead, what's your status?" Prowl asked, immediately pinging the space bridge technician back.

"I've got enough power to Ground Bridge you guys back to the Tower, but we'll have to drive to the plant from there," Bulkhead informed him.

"Well, that's preferable than driving from here," he replied with a half-hearted laugh.

"I hear ya. Hang on, I'm sending a bridge your way." A few seconds later, the bright glow of the Ground Bridge overcame that of the spilled energon. Prowl allowed Optimus to enter first, staying behind to pick up a sleeping Sari. Once she was in his servos, he followed his leader back to their home.

In a flash of light, Detroit was underneath them. Strangling cars whizzed through the freeway, speeding to a destination unknown to all but the driver. Perhaps Bumblebee's journey started out like that, a driver following whatever road was next, taking detours at the road blocks and riding over the bumps.

Upon their arrival, Bulkhead immediately shut down the bridge. His optics were downcast, guilt faring no better than the others'. Optimus put a servo on his shoulder joint; he was not suffering alone. Directing one last glance towards the bridge controls, he joined his team's descent to ground level. Without a word, they transformed. Prowl carefully placed Sari in Optimus' rig before transforming himself.

As they drove through the sleeping town, Bulkhead had to break the silence. He couldn't stand it and he knew that if Bumblebee was with them, he'd hate it. Bumblebee would be the first to break it, so Bulkhead would for the sake of his friend.

"You know," he said softly, "I didn't get a chance to apologize. Once Bee is up again, the first thing I'm gonna tell his is that I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't there when he needed me."

His promise was met with a silent agreement.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I haven't updated since fragging March? I am so sorry you guys! I got all caught up in stuff and then I watched all of Fullmetal Alchemist (original, Brotherhood, and Conqueror of Shamballa) in about two weeks. Yikes, I didn't realize how long I made everyone wait. :3 I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to get the next one out really, REALLY fast because I leave for camp in a few weeks. Yeah, not gonna be back until late August, so no updates for a very long time. However, if this story is not completed before I leave on June 24__th__, know that I intend to update once I get back AND that I've finished/been working on it. _


	8. Chapter 7

**00: 00: 00**

He literally hit the ground running. All the recent arguments were running through his processor, driving him to the brink of insanity. Old memories resurfaced of his tormentors, bots that were still running around Cybertron without conviction of a crime. In the alleyways and orphanages, nobody cared if you were beaten to death because you were slag. You meant nothing to society and therefore were completely expendable and worthless.

Worthless…he still was.

Bumblebee ran out of the Autobot base, mindful of the others in recharge. It was early in the morning, the sun barely visible in the light gray sky. If he weren't so distressed, he would have taken the chance to enjoy the sunrise. But now, it was acting as his warning. If he was going to leave, he had to do it now.

Well, it was never really a question.

The mech jumped into the air, flipping his pedes over his head to initiate his transform sequence. His wheels were spinning before they even hit the ground and the smell of burnt rubber filled the area. The subcompact weaved through slightly crowded streets, navigating the fastest way out of the city. The journey brought him past Sumdac Tower, bringing a small pang of sadness to Bumblebee's spark. Sari was the only one who had shown him mercy for the past two days. She deserved better than him, the lowly street-bot. With renewed determination, he sped past it without a second thought.

Meanwhile, the techno-organic tossed and turned in her bed. Her small robot-dog companion watched in silence, having enough thought process within its processor to contemplate waking her up. It wasn't needed.

A huge explosion shook the building, sending vibrations through its very foundation. With a strangled shriek, Sari jolted upright in bed, clutching her comforter close to her chest. She gasped quietly, trying to regain her breath. The explosion combined with the nightmare scared her beyond belief.

Desperately, she tried to recall her dream. It had something to do with Bumblebee, something about protoforms and body-types. There was energon, screams, and anguish. There was fire, a crowd, and taunting. It was hell on Earth…or Cybertron.

Suddenly, Professor Sumdac burst into his daughter's room, scaring her even more so than before. He was covered in a layer of soot, coughing as he breathed in the clean smoke-free air of the room. "Sorry to wake you so early Sari," he apologized, "There was an accident in one of the labs. Don't worry, it's under control. We just woke up half of Detroit, nothing of concern though. Try and go back to sleep." And then he left as quickly as he had come. Sari smiled. Her dad was such a workaholic.

But she couldn't fall back to sleep, not after all of that. She leaned back, resting against the wall behind her bed. The least she could do was stay in bed for another five hours before going over to the plant. There was no doubt that Bumblebee was still upset and that the others hadn't done much about it. Sometimes, the Autobots could be really, really stupid.

Before she could think about anything else, something big and green darted past her window. Curious, Sari got out of bed and peered outside. Maybe it had just been a trick of the light or her nightmare-plagued mind playing tricks on her.

But the thing came back.

Big, green and ugly backtracked, hovering right in front of Sari. She froze, hoping the behemoth wouldn't turn around and see her staring. It looked like a techno-organic, seeing as it was larger than any one of Earth's flying creature. Her eyes widened as she realized what-or specifically who-it was. It darted off again, screaming something nearly impossible to decipher. However, Sari had been close enough to know exactly what the giant wasp had said.

She quickly changed out of her pajamas and grabbed her jetpack. Leaving a scrawled note for her dad, she opened the window and took off. Impulsively, she set off in the same direction as the infuriated Waspinator and, sure enough, she spotted what he was tracking. A lone yellow subcompact made its way out of the city, heading west. Where was Bumblebee going? The Decepticons never attacked any Earth civilization besides Detroit. He had no reason to leave…unless it was for a completely different reason.

"You guys are idiots!" she mumbled to herself, changing course for the Autobot base. She hoped they were recharging so she could give them a rude awakening. The anger masked the panic, preventing her from hyperventilating and going into a full-blown freak-out. That was the last thing she needed right now.

As she flew, the sky lit up a brilliant shade of pink, overcast by light gray clouds. In a few minutes, the sky would be blue. By then, they would be too late with no hope of catching up to Bumblebee. Sari's jetpack could only fly so fast.

After what felt like an eternity, the techno-organic zoomed into the base, taking a sharp right to the others' rooms. She inhaled deeply, preparing for an audio-shattering shriek.

"WAKE UP YOU LAZY BUCKETS OF BOLTS!" she shouted, "WASPINATOR'S CHASING BEE!" She pounded her fists on the doors she flew by, making as much of a racket as she could. Prowl was the first one to stir, bringing himself to full awareness and preparing a shuriken for the impending attack. Once he realized that the voice belonged to Sari and not some mass murderer, he calmed down and decided to find out why the teenager was awake so early in the morning. It was then he realized that he missed watching the sunrise. Considering how little he recharged the night before, it was explainable. Bumblebee's argument was still fresh in his processor and only now was he beginning to make any sense of it.

Ratchet was next to rouse. For a few astroseconds, he believed that he was in the Great War and someone was shouting commands at him. He woke with a start, fearing what carnage his optics would behold. When he saw the wall of the med-bay, he groaned and cursed whatever bot woke him up. With a wrench in hand, he went to take down the perpetrator.

Optimus and Bulkhead were the last to enter the hallway. The Prime didn't have a clue what was going on, but wanted to investigate the source of his shortened recharge cycle. Bulkhead thought that Bumblebee was outside his door, screaming at him to open up and let him apologize. It was needless to say that the assumption was both reassuring and annoying. But after Bee's rough day yesterday, Bulkhead was almost ready to forgive his little buddy. Besides, he had missed Bumblebee's company and ignoring him had been painful. He knew where to draw the line and now was the time for forgiveness.

However, all the bots were greeted by a frantic Sari. Nobody knew how to react to the techno-organic's flight. She was obviously panicked and worried, her wide blue eyes locked firmly onto their optics.

"We have to help him," she stuttered, pointing in the direction of the exit. "There isn't much time. He's probably out of the city right now and he doesn't know what danger he's in. We've got to go tail him and get him back."

"Who are you talking about Sari?" Ratchet asked, subspacing the wrench for later use. His frustration had been replaced with concern as he watched Sari fidget in midair.

"Bumblebee," she replied quickly, "My dad caused an explosion in the lower levels of the Tower and it woke me up. I saw this huge green wasp-thing fly by my window screaming something about Bee. I followed him and he was trailing Bumblebee. I think Waspinator's trying to separate him from us or something. He wants Bee dead, right?" The others regarded her with shock, taken aback by the information.

"How long ago did you see him?" Prowl asked, breaking the silence within the corridor.

"About ten minutes ago," Sari informed, "I saw him heading west. He doesn't know his way around the country. He's going to get lost and cornered! We've got to go after him!"

"Why would he leave in the first place?" Bulkhead asked this time. He was met with a shrug from Ratchet. Optimus and Prowl didn't provide an answer, causing the teen to face-palm with a groan.

"You guys are a bunch of idiots!" she exclaimed, catching them all by surprise. "You," she started, pointing at Bulkhead, "ignored him and haven't seen him since. I know that's no reason to run away, but knowing all of you, you all said or did something that piled on top of everything else. A few days ago, I saw Bumblebee when his guard was down. He told me about his life before you guys. Bulkhead, please know that I am your friend, but what you've been doing to Bee has been so cruel for him. You're the Autobot Bee trusts the most and you just rejected him. And before you ask me why he didn't tell you anything, well, it's hard for him. He told me because it all became too much. He would have told you if you just stuck by him and made sure that he knew you weren't going to leave him. Bee's more fragile than you think." Silence overcame them once again; Sari's harsh breathing being the only sound that could be heard. After a moment to recollect herself, it was back to business.

Now, we need to go try to catch up with him without making a scene. Waspinator would know that we were following him, which could lead to a battle we don't want to have on a rush-hour highway," she reasoned, looking towards Optimus for input. The Prime nodded, gathering his thoughts in order to think of a plan.

"Right and we can't be too close to them either. Waspinator can detect our spark signatures if we're in the vicinity." Despite his steady voice, Optimus' processor was reeling with information. What was wrong with Bumblebee? Why didn't any of them see it before? He was the leader and it was his job to know his soldiers' status. He needed to comfort the youngling when he needed it, not reprimand him for a purely psychological reaction. Impulse was dangerous, but he knew that it was hard to control when one wasn't expecting it. Wasp and Bee had a past. Ever since the former had landed on Earth, Bumblebee was just a ticking time bomb. It exploded at the worst time possible.

"I can get an aerial view for you and tell you what turns to take," Sari offered, snapping the Prime back to reality. "The highway system can get a bit confusing at times."

"Alright," Optimus started. He was now ready to give his team commands. "Ratchet, I want you to stay here and watch the monitors. Keep in communication with us and try to tap into a satellite. We'll need all the navigation help we can get." The medic nodded and went off to his assigned post. "Bulkhead, get to Sumdac Tower. We have no clue how long Bee's going to be driving for or where he'll pop up. If we need an evacuation, I want you on standby for bridge operation." Bulkhead gaped for a minute, realizing what his leader was thinking.

"Boss-bot, you don't think he'll get that far away, do you? I mean, I don't know how much power the bridge'll use or how far its range is. I don't know if it'll even work!"

"I know, but we need some sort of advantage over the situation." With that, Bulkhead simply nodded and left, guilt eating away at his spark.

"Prowl, you're with me. We're going after him." The ninja-bot regarded his leader curiously.

"Optimus, why are we driving after him when we can monitor his spark signature?" he asked. Logic was telling him that it would be so much easier to track their scout like that. The emotional side of him urged him to follow the youngling, work towards seeing the one he broke.

"It's not that easy Prowl," Ratchet's voice came in over the open comm.-link. "The kid knows a trick or two, probably picked it up in Boot Camp or something."

"He knows how to shield his spark signature?" Prowl couldn't help the hint of surprise and admiration in his voice.

"Yep, he's not popping up on any of the monitors," Ratchet confirmed. "We need to do this quickly and manually."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Sari shouted, running towards the exit. Once she reached the end of the hall, she stopped and spun around. "By the way, I'm staying with you two once we've got a visual on Waspinator. I'm worried about him and there's no way I'm making a solo flight back here!" Before Optimus could protest, she was gone.

"We should probably follow her," Prowl suggested, transforming into his alt.-mode. Revving his engine, he took off down the hall, turned, and sped out of the plant. Over the comm.-link, he said, "I'll catch up to Bumblebee for now. I'm the faster of the two of us and right now, we need speed."

Both Autobots on the chase managed to find the youngling, far enough away from Waspinator but close enough to track their movements visually. Sari spent most of her time slumped in Optimus' seat, watching trees go by the windows. Every Autobot spent hours contemplating the guilt, wondering what to do once Bumblebee returned. Well, the first thing was a major apology session. From there, they were drawing a blank.

None of them expected the drive to last over twenty hours. Nobody thought it possible to lose both Cybertronians under the cover of darkness. Nobody was concerned with the sudden crash in the woods, believing that it was an old tree that had fallen. The last thing anyone was prepared for was what happened.

* * *

><p><em>Branches snapping, the feeling of energon dripping down his chassis…<em>

_He couldn't feel his servo but Primus, everything hurt…_

_The voices wouldn't stop, they wouldn't shut up! They were infuriating and devastatingly true. Oh, how true they were…_

_He was falling…falling…falling…CRASH!_

_His back was burning. His wings, Primus…_

_They were gone._

_He was gone._

_Was he dead?_

_No. Death was for the lucky ones. Torture was for the ones who deserved it._

* * *

><p>Days had passed in the Autobot base and Bumblebee was still in stasis. Ratchet had repaired him quickly and thoroughly, wrapping a bandage around the youngling's chassis once again. It all felt surreal, like when Sari stabbed him. But there was no energon then. During that fiasco, his energon lines hadn't been ruptured and he was thankful for it. This time, it was messy. He looked like a soldier. Ratchet couldn't have been more distressed.<p>

However, waiting was the worst part.

They all wanted the chance to apologize, to comfort their youngling. The guilt wouldn't stop and even sitting in the med-bay watching the kid live wouldn't alleviate any of it. No, it would increase tenfold with every beep of the spark monitor or with every glance at the newly realigned servo or the bandage covering the bright yellow chassis. It didn't help to see the most energetic team member motionless on a cold medical berth.

Bumblebee wasn't getting any worse, but showed no signs of awakening. It didn't worry Ratchet (not yet at least), but everyone was getting restless with stress and concern. The one thing the medic couldn't help with was the mental pain. Prowl had recounted the events inside of Bumblebee's processor, sharing his own assumptions. The frame change came up and after having to repair some damage to Bee's protoform, he couldn't help but confirm the theory. Bumblebee was not sparked with that body type, but he could draw no other information. The reason why could only be provided by the scout himself.

They set up shifts in the med-bay just to make sure that when (not if) Bumblebee woke up, someone would be there. Sari took hers during the day. Ratchet could hear the girl whispering soothing words into comatose audio receptors. When asked about the habit, she shrugged and said that maybe he'd be able to hear her. Bulkhead usually went after Sari, taking his easel and paints with him. Painting calmed him down, relieved him of stress. He wanted to make a picture for Bee, something personal to give him that would reassure the younger mech that he could always find a friend. Bee needed that more than anything.

Prowl took the ungodly night hours, simply meditating by the berth. Recently, the trilling of the spark monitor broke Ratchet's recharge cycle. Rushing in, he saw Prowl with his servo over Bumblebee's shivering body. On closer inspection, the medic noticed Prowl's uplink was activated. He was helping Bumblebee ride out a nightmare deep within his processor. Ratchet didn't interfere until Bee's frame became still again, then disconnected the ninja-bot. Prowl walked back to his room without another word. Ratchet never found out what the nightmare was about. However, the fact that Bumblebee had a nightmare was reason to believe that the youngling would wake soon. That had been two nights ago.

Optimus could be found sitting over the youngling in the early hours of the morning. His optics never left the prone frame, contemplating what would have happened if he just stepped back and allowed the kid to explain. He jumped to conclusions and reacted harshly. He was wrong and the consequences were severe.

Ratchet was always there, checking monitors and adjusting wires. The worst of it was over, now Bee just had to wake up and crack a joke or two. But it wasn't that simple and everything was just wrong. They were supposed to comfort him, but they couldn't. There was nothing they could do about it. And the longer Bumblebee stayed like that, the chances of his awakening fell. Ratchet cursed his pessimism because now he was beginning believe that the stasis-lock wouldn't end.

He was nearly ecstatic when he was proven wrong.

Sari ran into the rec. room shouting at the top of her lungs. A huge smile was plastered on her face as she informed the medic that Bumblebee's optics were online. He rushed into the med-bay, but one look at the youngling made his hopes fall. Unfocused blue optics stared blankly at the ceiling. Bumblebee was whispering something inaudible, reciting something he knew by spark. Ratchet was good enough at lip-reading to know what he was saying.

_I'm nothing…not a friend…too impulsive…danger to everyone…immature…selfish…_

He looked away when he recognized words from his own rant. It killed him to tell the others to back away, to wait again. They were all in the rec. room, all attention focused on their medic. Ratchet couldn't meet their pleading gazes. The situation reminded him of the Great War, when some bot off-lined and he was left to tell the others. But Bumblebee was still alive and he was going to stay that way. His awareness was another matter entirely.

So here he was, ready to tell everyone Bumblebee's condition. He had to break them again, crush their hopes with one simple prognosis.

"He's catatonic."

It was so easy to destroy hope.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Muahaha, I'm still an evil little glitch-head. :P_

_Once again, thanks for the reviews, favorites, and alerts! Ok, I'm thinking one more chapter and an epilogue. I'll try my best for a double post today/Saturday. Anyways, I hope everyone's on vacation right now and not dying of heatstroke in an inadequately built school. Happy summer! :D_


	9. Chapter 8

**02:21:02 AM; Detroit, Michigan**

The crescent moon was perched high above Detroit, illuminating the creatures of the night. Cars crawled along the interstate system and sirens rang out every now and again. Wind whistled through gravity defying buildings, rattling the objects within the alleyways separating them. Small rodents scurried around the more abandoned areas of the city, including the decrepit automobile plant long evacuated by human life.

In one particular room, two figures could be found. One was leaning against the wall, visor directed at the ground. The other was laid down on a large slab of metal, unresponsive to the world. Two blue spots were on the ceiling, made by the soft glow of online optics. The sight had been a familiar one for quite a few nights now, but it was time to break the routine.

Awareness returned in stages. His optics shuttered first, finally focusing in on his surroundings and somewhat failing. He let out a quiet groan, his servo twitching slightly. At first, he wasn't sure of who he was and where he was. He was lost and scared, unsure of what this new environment had in store for him. However, the disjointedness passed quickly and the memories came flooding in. His designation was Bumblebee and he was in Ratchet's med-bay which meant, by default, he was back at the base.

Relief coursed through his systems, the feeling of safety returning to his turbulent mind. However, his fight or flight instinct was kicking in. His comrades hated him right now, how could he have forgotten? This was the last place he wanted to be! But then the extent of his body's damage was finally registering in his processor and he knew better than to try and escape right now. He'd make it to the door before going into stasis.

So he settled for the next best thing: looking around to make sure nobody was there. He jumped in surprise when he saw Prowl standing next to him. When did the resident ninja-bot get there? More importantly, why did he have a giant gap in his memory files? Something was wrong. It was time to get some answers.

"Bumblebee, are you awake?" Prowl asked with some hesitance. He heard movement from the once inert bot, but he wasn't sure if it had been a trick of the processor. It happened once before, he didn't need everyone believing that he was crazy.

"What happened?" Bee asked. He seemed almost afraid of the answer.

"Depends, how much do you remember?" Prowl inquired. The mech on the berth adorned a pensive expression.

"I remember...Bulkhead's been ignoring me and Doc-bot told me that I was being too stubborn. Oh, and Boss-bot chewed me out for attacking...for attacking...um..." He scratched his helm for a second (a human mannerism he picked up from Sari) but shrugged it off and continued. "Then you talked to me and we got into a fight. I drove around the city for a while and...and I...I think I fell off a cliff or something. Why would I fall off a cliff?" The youngling was rambling, a nervous habit. At least he was acting like himself.

"Bumblebee, I think you're trying to suppress your memories." Prowl stated. He knelt down next to the berth and held Bee's servo in a rare show of affection. "You ran away."

"Why'd I do that?" He appeared genuinely curious. Hopefully, the memories would return later. It would be painful, but it was better to have him know what transcended.

"You have underlying psychological issues that developed during sparklinghood. I believe they caught up with you when Waspinator returned." It was hard to say and it was a lot to take in. However, only the name caught Bee's attention.

"Waspinator's here?" He almost fell off the berth, but Prowl managed to calm him down enough to listen to reason.

"No, he's gone now...but that's not the point," he said, shaking his helm. "Bumblebee, you've been catatonic for almost an Earth week now."

"Um...what's that?" He'd never heard the word before, but all this sitting around was annoying him. He tried to sit up, but winced and stopped his efforts. Slag, that gash across his chassis really hurt!

"You're going to be stuck in here for a while," Prowl commented, "And Ratchet's going to keep a constant watch on you. We all are."

"Lucky me," he groaned sarcastically. "So...what exactly happened? I mean, why can't I remember stuff?" There's the question of the evening. For such a small question, it was going to receive a loaded answer.

"As I said before, you're subconsciously suppressing your memories. You've encountered so many traumatic incidents, it all caught up with you," Prowl explained. "I feel ashamed for not noticing it earlier."

"Why? I never told anyone so you shouldn't feel guilty about it," Bumblebee said. "Besides, I didn't want any more pity. Pity is sympathy and nobody ever acts on it. I don't need a promise that will never be fulfilled."

"We're not here to pity you Bumblebee; we're here to help you." The youngling's helm shot up, innocent optics locking with the steely visor. "We want to help you get through this." For a moment, they just stared at one another. The unspoken bond passed between them and they finally understood.

"You know," Bee started, breaking their silence, "I ran away from the last bot who told me that. It was a femme. She found me in an alleyway in Iacon. I don't know why the frag she decided it was a good idea to wander down there, but she found me instead of the hurt turbo-fox she'd been expecting. One look at me and she screamed and ran for it. I thought I looked like a monster and that I would always repel any potential friends.

"I was bleeding energon out of my back-plating from some recent beating. I was covered in the stuff. The last thing I was expecting was for her to return with her creators. They took me in, looked after me. They loved me like their own and never once tried to pity me like every other mech or femme did. They even paid for me to have my frame changed. The femme never looked at me like I was some Decepticon hybrid. No, she was the one who suggested the idea in the first place. Nobody would expect to find my protoform in the most common Autobot body type.

"After the surgery, I ran away. I didn't deserve their kindness and I left without a trace. Ok, I left a note like any good guest would. After that, I went straight to boot camp and you know the rest from there." Bumblebee finished with a sigh, caught up in his past. Before he could elaborate on anything, he felt a painful blow to his helm. "Ow!" he shouted, rubbing the abused metal. "What the slag was that for Prowl? I'm already recovering from enough injuries! Why'd you go and make it worse?"

"You're such an idiot Bumblebee!" Prowl shouted back. "Is this what you do whenever someone tries to love you? Do you just push them away and never give it a second thought?"

"What? Of course not! I'm grateful for that family! I just couldn't be a part of it!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"Why not, who decided that? Do you really think that little of yourself?" Prowl asked. Clenching his servos, Bumblebee replied.

"Yes, I do! Not all of us are cool ninja-bots like you Prowl! There's probably a reason I was abandoned on the streets! There's a reason why every single youngling beat me to a slagging pulp! There's a reason why I never made it to the Elite Guard or ever had a chance of making it! Don't you see? I'm fragging useless, a malfunction! Nobody wants me around because I can't do a slagging thing right! Even you guys hate me! I mess up and then everyone's on my case! I had a feeling that everyone was just waiting for that moment where I mess up big time and then they can reject me without remorse! Well, it just happened! So, why did you bring me back here? Why are you making me suffer through more betrayal?"

"Because we care about you! Get that through your thick processor and accept the fact that some bots actually care!" The outburst left both mechs exhausted, vents working overtime as they cooled their respective frames.

"…What?" Bumblebee asked. His optics were wide with shock, something that made Prowl uneasy. Bee really did have self-esteem issues and they were fragging gigantic.

"Yes, it's true Bumblebee. We all care for you, even though we have odd ways of showing it." Prowl sighed. "Bulkhead felt betrayed because you never shared your past with him. Like you, that discovery added to a list of things that were bothering him. He lashed out at you and he's never been more ashamed. Once we got you back, he was here every day hoping that you would wake up during his shift. It was hard on him, knowing that no matter how many times he apologized, you would never hear them.

"Ratchet didn't understand the situation as well as he thought he did. He regrets everything he said to you and hasn't complained about anything ever since we brought you in.

"Optimus was worried about you. He was frustrated and didn't know how to handle the situation. He made the wrong decision and he won't let anything go. You know him, always blames himself for everything. He feels like a failure right now."

"How is any of this making me feel better?" Bee asked. Truly, all of this information was making his processor reel. He felt guilty for causing everyone so much distress.

"I'm proving to you that you're a part of this team," Prowl replied. "When we found you covered in energon, we were expecting the worst. We thought you were off-line and that we came too late. All of us made a mistake and we couldn't feel any guiltier. We should have tried to understand instead of lashing out. Anger is easy. Pacifying is hard."

"I didn't hear you mention yourself anywhere in there ninja-bot," Bumblebee smirked. "So how about it Prowler, did ya miss me?" The obnoxious personality was back.

"Yes, I did." Well…slag. That was an answer the youngling wasn't at all expecting. "I was the last one to converse with you. I should have realized how out of character you were acting. Our argument was the reason why you left or solidified your opinions of us. I'm sorry that I couldn't see past my own pride. You're like a brother to me and when I saw you on that rock, I couldn't help but blame myself. The least I can do is apologize." Silence lingered once again, the chirping of a cricket periodically sounding throughout it.

"Wow, it's kinda cool having an older brother ninjabot." Prowl cracked a smile at the statement. "So ninja-brother, I'm only going to offer this once. Is there anything you want to know?" It was strange to have Bumblebee open up like that, but it was something they both needed.

"You can tell me anything," Prowl replied. So there they stayed, sharing their pasts. Bumblebee told of his time in the orphanage, the story of his old frame finally becoming a reality. The ninjabot mentioned knowing something about his door-wings and was quickly enlightened. He explained why the other younglings tore them off and of how he lived on the streets after that incident.

Prowl told the youngling about his life during the Great War. He told him about Yoketron and the protoforms, of his guilt for not saving them in time and for sacrificing a new life to save an old one. Both tried in their own way to comfort each other. It didn't matter if it was done through harsh sarcasm or pure indifference; the familiarity was the cure they needed.

As they talked, the moon gave way to early morning. Sunlight came in through the slightly cracked windows of the plant, passing over the two mechs still conversing from the night before. They were now arguing about trivial things, trying to annoy the other into submission. Ratchet unfortunately awoke to the worst of it and promptly kicked the uninjured of the two out. He also threw a wrench at him for not alerting anyone to Bumblebee's return to consciousness.

The youngling simply stared as Ratchet disconnected wires and shut down machinery. It was surreal to think that all of that had been hooked up to him. The last major injury he had was when Sari stabbed him. Seeing those monitors gave him chills about the accident.

The medic continued his work in silence, checking the bandages secured around Bee's chassis and running a diagnostic on the still recovering servo. After about twenty minutes of this treatment, Bumblebee was completely fragged off.

"Are you going to yell at me for being an idiot or not?" he asked rather loudly. "This is freaking me out Doc-bot. You usually love to point out my stupidity."

"I'm sorry kid." Bumblebee was caught completely off-guard by the apology. Prowl really meant it when he said everyone was drowning ing guilt. "I shouldn't have said that stuff to you. Can you forgive me?"

"Yeah, as long as you start acting grumpy again. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss the fun-sucking Ratchet! Seriously, you're creeping me out right now." The medic smirked.

"At least I know you're back to normal," he stated. "Which means that you'll be expecting this." A loud clang rang throughout the med-bay. Bumblebee rubbed the new dent on his helm, glaring at the wrench on the floor and then directing it towards the medic.

"What the frag was that for?" he asked angrily.

"You said it yourself earlier. You were such a slagging glitch-head! We were worried sick about you! Next time you want to blow off some steam, don't leave the city limits! Now, I need you to leave those bandages on for another solar cycle. Don't stress yourself out, don't transform, don't do any strenuous activities and don't do anything stupid. Break any of those rules and I'll reformat you into a slagging toaster. Do I make myself clear?" Bumblebee nodded his helm without hesitation. "Good, now get out of my med-bay!" The youngling wasted no time, running away from Ratchet's potential wrath. So much for being cooped up in there for another megacycle. Maybe that was also part of the apology. Then again, it could have been that he was so slagging annoying when given absolutely nothing to do. Either way, the slightly early release was nice.

When he entered the rec. room, Bulkhead nearly tackled him in a frame-crushing hug. After a bit of coaxing, the behemoth released his significantly smaller friend and basically begged him for forgiveness. Bumblebee wound up laughing and accepting the profuse apology. He was really trying to hide the fact that it felt so weird to have everyone admit to their mistakes. Nobody had ever done that for him before. But here was his team, willingly accepting him back into their ranks.

Optimus was the last one to apologize. His was lengthy and appeared to practically bore Bumblebee to tears. However, the youngling was taking in every word the Prime said, making an effort to remind himself that others actually cared. Optimus also reminded him that if he ever needed someone to talk to, he would always be there. Well, Prowl already filled that position, but he thanked Boss-not nonetheless.

The day continued on as any normal one, with the exception of a lot of kindness and caution around Bumblebee. He honestly didn't understand why they were censoring themselves this much. He had experienced far worse treatment and this was almost overloading his logic circuits. There was no way in the Pit that he deserved anything like this.

That little voice in his processor continued its chant. It assured him that he was a failure, one of the most useless bots to exist. It convinced him that he wasn't worth anyone's effort and everyone would leave him in the end. No matter how good things got, it would always be there.

But so would reality. His friends always had his back. They would risk their lives for his and vice versa. They would try to protect him to the point of driving him mad. Regardless, they loved him like their own. He was part of the family, the youngest of their big dysfunctional family, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

However, there comes a time when things go wrong. Life throws a curve ball that ends up hitting your thigh and incapacitating you for a period of time. Prowl's death did just that.

It was a blow to their morale. The night should have been spent celebrating, not mourning a fallen comrade. Bumblebee lost track of the dents he made in the concrete walls of his room. He lost control over the voice and allowed it to hold his mind in a death grip. It was needless to say that he didn't take it well.

It took three days without energon to convince him that something was wrong. He had passed out and woken up in the med-bay. Everyone was worrying about him again. He was being a selfish glitch-head and then the memories came flooding back. He remembered crashing through trees and feeling something protruding from his chassis. He remembered Waspinator and his threats for revenge. He remembered his flashback with Prowl there, trying to make everything better. He remembered the promise he made that night in the med-bay.

_"Give me your word Bumblebee," Prowl said sternly._

_"Fine," he huffed, "I promise to not dwell on the past and to let you help me work through my obvious issues. You better do the same Prowl; I'm not the only one with unhealthy tendencies here."_

He sighed, knowing that there was one thing he had left to do. If not for himself, it was for Prowl.

The next day, he found himself and Sari beginning one of the longest drives of their lives. It would take them over twenty hours to reach their destination, but it would hopefully be worth the effort.

There was one final egress to be made.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Almost done! Just click that little "Next" button and finish the story for Primus' sake! :D You see that little complete sign? Yeah, no lie, the epilogue's next. Also, pagebreak lines are my best friend. :)_


	10. Epilogue

Sunlight filtered down from above, casting its rays onto the swaying fields of grass. A breeze passed through the area, causing flowers and grass to swirl in dizzying motions. Buzzing filled the air, bees and butterflies flitting from one plant to the other. Birds sang from the safety of the forest trees, located nearby. Occasionally, a rabbit would hop by and nibble on a piece of long grass, only to turn tail and retreat back into the protection of the shadows.

The sound of a car's engine did little to break the tranquil environment. It carefully wove around the dips and curves of the asphalt, as if trying to preserve nature's ease. A girl had her head out the window, taking in the sights around her. The last time she had been there, it was night. During the day, the forest appeared much less foreboding.

Light peaked through the dark canopy of the forest as they entered. The yellow subcompact slowed to a crawl and the girl jumped out of the passenger seat. A strange five frequency noise rang out as Bumblebee transformed. His optics cast over the familiar area, sadness creeping into his processor. Yet, he smiled and shook his helm almost to chastise himself for thinking such thoughts. He motioned to Sari and they began their trek through the wilderness.

It didn't take long to reach their destination as they both knew the coordinates by heart. They arrived at a clearing surrounded by shrubs and stones. A large rock sat at its center, a spear-like point as its defining quality. It was directly under the sun, a break in the protective canopy allowing for its almost surreal appearance. The slight blue hue made it stand out from the deep greens it was located within. Its presence made both visitors uncomfortable.

Bumblebee walked forward, reminded of how the lone boulder became such an unusual landmark. The black stripe on his chassis covered the scar left behind by its unwelcomed entrance. He was reminded of the resentment he felt, the spark-shattering betrayal and hurt. But in some twisted way, the accident helped him. By extension, this stupid rock made him, Bumblebee, live again. He learned how to let go of the past. Sure, the memories were still there but who didn't have skeletons in their closet?

Sari watched him circle around the rock, a small smile on his face. She knew that he needed this, that he needed to move past this one last incident. It's what Prowl would have wanted.

Completing his pacing, Bumblebee turned his attention back to Sari. "You know, I never thought I'd be back here on my own free will," he stated, pointing at the boulder, "Especially after what that thing did to me. It totally ruined my paintjob and almost off-lined me, the slagger." He forced a chuckle out. "Still, I never thought I'd see the day when Prowl off-lined." He stopped smiling and looked at the ground. "It should have been me instead."

"Bumblebee, it could have been any of us," Sari said. "Don't blame yourself, there's nothing you could have done."

"Everyone keeps saying that, but I still feel guilty. I'm the stupid reckless one; I should have off-lined when Shockwave cornered me on the moon." Bumblebee sighed, absentmindedly running a digit up and down his stripe.

"Stop acting like a whiney girl off of a teenage drama," she chastised, lightly punching her fist against his servo. "Prowl would definitely sit you down for a therapy session or something. I know where this conversation is going to go and I'm not in the mood to hear you angst about how worthless you think you are. If you off-lined instead of Prowl, we'd all be in the same position: blaming ourselves for what happened. The least you could do is stop moping, just to make Prowl happy in whatever you guys call Heaven."

"It's called the Well of All Sparks," he mumbled, "And I'm pretty sure the moping is normal. Were you expecting me to have a party or something?"

"No, I was expecting this reaction. It's why I came with you today." Sari stifled a yawn.

"Don't you mean yesterday? I drove for twenty-two hours straight!" Bee exclaimed, cracking a smile.

"You did it before so I wasn't worried. Besides, I was more concerned about what you would do when you got here. I mean, I didn't' want you going all samurai on us and plunging that stupid rock into your stomach." She knew it was a harsh joke, but dark humor was part of Bumblebee's coping mechanism. She'd do it if it helped, even if it was slightly uncomfortable for her.

The mech let out an indignant huff. "Please, I'd rather not have that thing get any more personal with me than it has already. I don't want it poking around my insides. It's bad enough when Ratchet has to!" He grew somber again. "But I guess you're right. The last thing Prowl would want me to be is unresponsive and depressing to be around. That would just creep him out."

"It creeps me out. You just did that to us less than twenty-four hours ago!" Sari crossed her arms. "And you didn't think about us when you decided to become the not-fun Autobot. Come on, you know that's Ratchet's job. Why take it away from him when he's doing it so well?"

"Shut it Sari, I wasn't that bad!" Bee said playfully. He whacked her arm lightly which still caused her to stumble a bit. He was rewarded with an energy ball to the faceplate.

"Yes you were! So, is that why you decided to take the road trip?" she asked, still curious about her friend's intentions. He had insisted that he go alone, but Sari managed to nag him enough to let her come along. To be honest, she was worried about him being alone right after another traumatic experience. The rest of the team backed her decision, not wanting a relapse of the last time unpleasant events caught the youngling by surprise.

"Part of it," he replied, "I wanted to get away from everything and what better place than the middle of nowhere? But there was something else I wanted to do." His servo transformed into a gray and teal stinger. It sparked with excess electricity, signaling that it was being charged.

"What?" Sari was almost afraid to ask. Bumblebee was still in a fairly fragile mental state. He could be up to anything right now. Just in case, she was prepared to intervene and call the base if anything went wrong. To her surprise, Bumblebee pointed his stinger at the boulder. Without hesitation, he let loose a strong burst of electricity. Upon hitting its target, it sparked whatever residue the energon left on the rock. The offending object was destroyed in a fiery explosion, raining bits and pieces of its all over the clearing. Bumblebee managed to shield Sari from the onslaught, pieces of flaming stone clinking harmlessly against his armor. Once it stopped, both of them looked up and saw a black mark on the ground.

"That's what I wanted to do," he answered, straightening to his full height. "Prowl kept nagging me about how I would keep coming back to this thing. He just wanted me to stop dwelling on it and accept what happened, like I did for the Iacon slag. I was fine but he suggested I visit the place, something about psychological effects. Well, here I am and I've got to say, destroying that fragging thing felt really good." He smiled deviously, as if planning another way to make an impressive explosion.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, but you don't have my permission to become a pyro. Now, put your stinger away before I make you," Sari commanded, watching as the mech reluctantly transformed the weapon back into his servo. He pouted slightly.

"You're no fun," he whined. Looking back towards the scorch mark, he smiled. "You ready to go back?"

"Already? But we just got here," Sari sarcastically complained. Bumblebee shot her a questioning glance before shaking his helm. "Ok, ok, we can leave. You owe me a milkshake though."

"Fair enough," Bee admitted, "Hey, you want to just explore this place while we're here. I mean, we've never been out here on a social visit."

"Sure," she complied. When she looked back, Bumblebee had already transformed into his alt.-mode. Climbing in, she turned up the radio as Bee pulled a u-turn. They sped away from the site, leaving the worst of the past behind them.

"So, what do we do now?" Sari asked. If Bumblebee could, he'd give her a cocky smirk.

"Live."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm not sure how I feel about that ending, but I really liked the lyric that it came from 'cause it's so true. It's from the English version of the song "Bratja" from Fullmetal Alchemist. It's a great anime with a great song. _

_I'm not sure if this will be a good idea or not, but I was thinking about doing a semi-short sequel to this. I can put up a description in my profile if anyone's interested. :3_

_So yeah, you can just skip to the bottom now or press the little back arrow at the top of your browser and read another story. You see, the next part is where I go on and gush about how thankful I am for all the support I received from whumping Bumblebee. If you want to read on, be my guest. _

_I just want to thank everyone who read this story and helped make it so successful. I've had the best response from this story and it felt like a really warm welcome into the TF fandom. For once, I'm really proud of what my fic progressed into. I'd like to give a special thanks to everyone who dropped a review or nine:_

_Stand For The Silent, Tanisa Bumblebrasil, Cinnamy, Sassbrat, lunarqua, Noella50881, sparklespepper, deathoftoast, . , JazzTheTiger, Richard'sQueen aka LGFS, IceDragon5683, LucasVN, Kangarooney, Rocking Phillip, SogaRyuu, DreamStoryWeaver, ReveilleStudios, TFAArtFreak, Shunner68, Kaleia, ReveilleWolfie, kcrb0202, prowl'slil'sis, ScienceLuver117, eltigre221, DemonSurfer, RayneDancer, Witch08, InsaneGrizzlies, myself and wolf, Challenger2011, iolper, musical-artist94, IBrokeThe4thWall, Draconia Snowmantle-Snape, and IAmStarscream._

_Thank you so much everyone! Have a good summer, don't get dehydrated, and keep staring at those Camaros! Seriously, one WILL transform!_


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